


It Will Come Back

by MobMode



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Choking, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Minor Violence, Monster!AU, Slow Burn (kinda), Time Skips, Werewolf!LP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-10-11 19:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MobMode/pseuds/MobMode
Summary: "Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul.Honey, make this easy."





	1. Leave It to the Land

**Author's Note:**

> Monster AU inspired by @irradiatedsnakes on tumblr, as well as some amazing art that @Based-Ducks created. This is going to be my first Multi-Chapter fic so some constructive criticism would be super helpful, hopefully it doesn't come out too awful! Thank you to Night Owl for helping me with beta-ing and building the story and to everyone on the Discord server for making me excited to write this, love you guys!
> 
> Kudos and comments much appreciated!

_ The sounds of multiple car doors opening and slamming shut wake someone from unconsciousness, a pained groan filling the air as they slowly join the realm of the living and alive. _

_ “Looks like he finally woke up.” _

_ “Better dump him quick.” _

_ The voices seem to come from all around him, and his head spins as he opens his eyes to find many angry eyes glaring down at him. He can’t even cry out in pain as his many wounds are jostled when he’s pulled out of whatever cage or box they have him in, as he realizes a muzzle is placed securely around his snout, and he grunts as he’s dropped to the ground unceremoniously. He could smell pine trees and the rich, earthy scent that came with being in the woods, searching his memories desperately for why he was in this situation right now. _

_ “Does she really want us to kill him? We’ve never done anything like that before…” _

_ “If it’s what she wants, it’s what she gets…” _

_ These words snap him out of his jumbled stream of thoughts, sending adrenaline coursing through his veins, then... _

_The transformation takes over. _

\---

Drake yawns as he washes breakfast’s dishes in the kitchen, still not fully awake quite yet. Why he ever decided to become a farmer, who basically _ had _to rise with the sun, was lost on him as drowsiness make his eyelids droop. A quick peek out the window showed the sun was just barely making it over the horizon, and he pauses in his washing to take a slow sip of his coffee in an effort to try and wake up a little more. A warm weight at his side makes him look down to find a sleepy Gosalyn hugging him around the waist.

“Do I have to go milk the cows, Dad?” she whines, Drake rolling his eyes fondly. They went through this same routine every morning, always with the same answer.

“You know your chores, Cupcake, you’re helping me out a lot by doing it.” he says, petting a hand through her soft curls. “Besides, Ginger never lets me near her, you’re the only one she trusts.”

Gosalyn lets out a long suffering sigh, rubbing her face into his side as she does so, making a big show of dragging her feet while she leaves, and he watches her go with a fond smile. Everyday he’s more and more thankful Gosalyn’s adoption process went smoothly, he didn’t know what he’d do without her in his life, and things were much less lonely on the farm now.

He goes back to washing pots and pans leisurely, going through his mental checklist of things he needed to get done today; that one fence needed to be fixed, the pigs needed to go to a new pasture, he needed to check and make sure the garden was coming along alright, when a sudden shriek pierces the quiet of the morning. He drops the plate he was washing with a shatter, he could distinguish Gosalyn’s voice from a crowd of thousands, and that was his _ daughter _ that just screamed.

Now wide awake, Drake bolts out of the house to the barn, heartbeat pounding in his throat, and he bursts through the heavy barn doors, finding Gosalyn frozen in fear right in front of him, and before he can ask what’s wrong he notices the trail of blood leading further into the building. Pushing Gosalyn behind him, he follows the trail, grabbing a shovel from off a nearby wall for protection as he goes.

The trail leads into one of the empty stalls at the end of the barn, and Drake holds the shovel above his head, ready to strike, as he peeks inside, only to promptly drop the shovel with a startled gasp at what he finds.

Cowering in the stall with wide, scared eyes, is what is, beyond a reasonable doubt, a Werewolf.

The werewolf flinches at the sound of the shovel clattering to the floor, a sad whine coming from his muzzled mouth, and though Drake is terrified he can’t help but feel sorry for him, those big yellow eyes gazing at him imploringly. He only feels worse when he takes in his appearance, his ruddy brown fur stained with dark blood from what appeared to be many wounds on his arms and chest, and one very nasty bullet hole in his left leg.

He moves his mouth to speak the little bit the muzzle allows, and grumbles out a weak, “Help… please…” before his eyes roll back into his head and he passes out, slumped over and clutching his side. Drake watches in disbelief as the stranger shifts back into what he assumed was his normal form, which was a slightly smaller dog, but Drake could tell that if they were standing side by side he would still be dwarfed by the much bigger man.

Getting over his initial shock, Drake shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, a new mental checklist forming in his head, all centered around making sure the werewolf lived.

“Gosalyn! Go bring me a bucket of water, some rags, and the first aid kit!” he shouts back at his daughter, who is still standing by the door frozen, and she snaps out of it at his words, running back towards the house. Drake slowly steps closer to the stranger, the one part of him devoted to rational thought screaming for him to run away, but a bigger part of him couldn’t stand to just let the werewolf die, so he forces himself to kneel by his side.

His chest was rising and falling in short, wheezing breaths, face screwed up in pain, and Drake carefully pulls one big arm down so the werewolf was laying on his back and not his side, and the duck hisses as he sees the many scratches, bites, and bruises littering his body.

“What happened to you…?” he wonders aloud, reaching up to brush his red hair away from his eyes, and as he looks at his resting face, he can’t help but find the stranger ruggedly handsome, and his cheeks warm. He knew werewolves existed, but had never met one, they weren’t too common nowadays, and he lets his hand trace around the soft fur of his face, just observing him.

“Here, Dad!” shouts Gosalyn from behind him suddenly, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, clutching a hand over his chest when his heart threatens to leap right out of it. After calming himself he takes the materials offered to him, warning Gos to stay back just in case, and gets to work cleaning up the injured stranger. After using up all of the rags and bandages and ending up with a bucket of water tinged red, Drake sits back to look at his handiwork.

The werewolf was now wrapped up and his wounds would hopefully stay free of infection, so he moves his body into the recovery position. He also slips off the muzzle from around his snout, wondering who would be so cruel as to put something like that on him, and sets it to the side. It was now up to the stranger to wake up, so Drake takes the time to clean the barn of all the blood he tracked around, and maybe see about getting him some food ready for when he woke up.

Now back with a plate of food and some water, Drake sets it down near him and grabs a stool so he could sit and keep an eye on the werewolf. As he watches him rest, he thinks about what events could have possibly lead up to this mysterious (handsome) stranger showing up on his farm of all places, looking like he’d been chewed up and spit out by someone much bigger and meaner than he. 

Gosalyn joins him and sits on his lap, and he wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her head.

“What are we gonna do when he wakes up?” Gosalyn asks, and Drake sighs as he’s been wondering the same thing himself.

“You know, Muffin, I really don’t know.” he admits, “I guess it’s up to him to see what happens next.”

He then sends Gosalyn off to do her chores despite her protests that she wanted to be there when he woke up, ‘It’s not everyday you get to meet a werewolf, Dad!’, leaving him alone with the man.

Rubbing a hand over his face over this morning’s sudden turn of events, Drake groans.

“What am I getting myself into?”


	2. This is What it Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions are made and crushes are forming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I still feel things are building a bit slowly and sorry if you want to get right into the action, but I promise it's coming soon and things will pick up! Thanks again to Night Owl for beta-ing, you're awesome! And thank you to everyone in the server for hyping me up to write, lots of love!!
> 
> Kudos and comments much appreciated!

When Launchpad wakes up, he is immediately aware of two things. His whole body feels like it was run over by a semi, and he was so hungry that he was well prepared to gnaw off his hand just so to eat  _ something _ .

Blinking his eyes open, his vision slowly focuses to find he’s laying on the floor. Sitting up carefully, ignoring the random twinges of pain flaring up throughout his whole body, he raises a brow when he sees there are bandages wrapped around his various wounds, also noticing that his favorite jacket is missing, rubbing his hands over his bare arms.

“Sorry I took your jacket,” comes a voice nearby, his head shooting up to finally acknowledge the duck sitting at the door, and some clarity comes to his mind as he remembers that scared face from earlier, only now he’s looking at him with concern.

“Whoever hurt you really did a number on it, and it was filthy, so I put it to wash.” he further explains, and Launchpad’s ears pin back at the reminder of just why he was in this mess. “I’ll give it back! Promise!” the stranger soothes, taking his reaction of anger directed at him and holding his hands up in surrender.

He laughs a bit at this, “No, no, I appreciate it, thank you. Did you do all this, too?” Launchpad asks, gesturing to a bandage wrapped around a bite on his arm. The duck nods, then points at the floor in front of him, to a plate of food he didn’t yet notice, “Made that for you, as well. Figured you’d be hungry after all you’ve been through, whatever exactly that is.” 

Launchpad knew the questions would be coming but didn’t expect them so soon, so he stuffs his face with the delicious bacon and eggs given to him to hold the conversation off for a little longer. His hunger settled, for now, he sets down the plate then looks up at the stranger, who is giving him an expectant look.

“So, wanna explain what happened?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest. Launchpad racks his brain trying to figure out what exactly to say, not wanting to lie but not wanting to give out the whole truth.

“Can I ask the name of the person who saved my life, first?” he asks, smiling and wagging his tail when red colors the duck’s cheeks. He appears to struggle with himself for a moment, beak opening and closing before sighing, “Drake. Drake Mallard. And you are?”

“Launchpad McRuff, at your service!” he says proudly, giving a mock salute, and Drake raises a brow. 

“Launchpad?” he questions, doubtful.

“That’s my name,” Launchpad smiles, tail picking up speed.

Drake just shrugs, accepting it as the truth for now, “Alright then, Launchpad, what happened to you?”

His tail is quick to stop wagging and his ears fold back once again, fur bristling, and Drake feels only slightly nervous at how angry he looks. It takes him a few moments before he finally speaks but Drake is a patient man.

“Let’s just say someone doesn’t like my employer, and I ended up caught in between their little war.” Launchpad sighs, some of the tension bleeding from his form with it. Drake hums, wondering what kind of job could lead to being muzzled and almost dying of blood loss just for working there.

“Well, you’re safe now, alright? At least I hope so, do the people who hurt you know you’re here?” Drake asks, and Launchpad shakes his head. “They shouldn’t, no. I think I gave ‘em a pretty good scare.”

“Where exactly are we, by the way?” Launchpad asks a bit sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Well right now we’re in my barn, you gave the horses and cows a pretty good scare.” Drake says, giving Launchpad a halfhearted stern look. “You’re at Mallard Farms, the cutest little farm in all of Calisota!”

“And uh, how far would you say that is from Duckburg?” 

Drake waves a hand about, “Oh, about… forty-five minutes?” 

His eyes widen when the dog begins attempting to stand up, “Hey now, wait-”, only to put pressure on his left leg and fall back to the floor with a sharp yelp. Drake rushes to his side, hesitating before putting a hand on his big arm comfortingly, “You got hurt pretty bad, especially that leg of yours. It’s best to keep weight off of it.” 

Launchpad grits his teeth in a pained grimace, still reeling from the burning pain that shot up his leg. “But I gotta get back home…” he whines, glaring at his leg as if that would make it miraculously heal.

“Well, my truck is stuck in the shop for another week or so, and there’s no way I’m letting you walk back there like this.” Drake huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Launchpad remains silent, a frustrated scowl pulling at his features, and Drake gives his arm a small squeeze.

“Come on, let’s get you into the house, we can figure everything out there.” he says, and the dog gives him a surprised look. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” Launchpad asks, his voice small.

“I’ve already helped out this much, haven’t I? You’re hurt, and I’m not so cruel as to just turn you away because I don’t trust you quite yet.” Drake says honestly, and he pulls Launchpad’s arm up across his shoulders, leaving no room for argument. After some awkward shuffling they eventually get standing, Drake struggling to support Launchpad’s left side and keep the weight off his bad leg, the considerable difference in size between them complicating things. He tries his best not to blush at being pressed so close to the other man, as well, focusing on just getting him into the house.

They eventually make it there with some effort, and Drake helps him settle onto the living room couch, sitting across from him on the coffee table with a sigh, wiping at his brow.

“So, Launchpad. What can we do to get you home?”

Launchpad thinks for a second before his mouth opens in a small ‘o’ and he pats at his pants pockets as if looking for something but comes up empty. He growls something under his breath that Drake half hears as complaining about someone taking something from him, and Launchpad throws an arm over his face as he leans his head back to rest it on the couch.

“Well, I don’t have my phone, and I can’t remember my boss’s number to call him, so…”

“Guess you’re stuck here for a while, huh!” a new voice catches both of their attention, and Drake frowns when he finds Gosalyn listening in from the hallway. He waves her over to come to his side, wrapping an arm around her once she gets close enough.

“This is my daughter, Gosalyn. I believe you two have met but maybe not on the best of terms.” Drake chuckles, then ruffles Gosalyn’s hair, ignoring her hand trying to push him away, “Gosalyn, this is Launchpad.” They both wave at each other, Launchpad giving her a wide smile that shows off his impressive teeth. Before Gosalyn can start asking the other man the million questions he can practically see developing in her mind, he turns her head to face him.

“Launchpad is going to be staying with us for a little while until he’s all better and the truck gets back, ok?” and Gosalyn just nods before turning her head back to gawk at the dog.

“You sure Mrs. Mallard won’t mind?” Launchpad asks, and Drake is confused for a second before snorting and shaking his head.

“Oh no, no, no. I don’t think there’ll ever be a ‘Mrs.’ Mallard in this house.” he explains, only realizing he’s essentially just come out to this man he’s just met until it’s too late, and his face burns. Launchpad only gives him a warm smile, and something in Drake’s head clicks that he’s not alone here, and he breathes a little sigh of relief. He finds himself giving Launchpad a small smile of his own, and Gosalyn glances between the two of them, confused, before taking her chance to ask all the questions that are eating her up inside.

“Can you transform whenever? Or is it only during full moons? How big do your teeth get? Do you howl at the moon like wolves do? How did you become a werewolf? Were you born one or did you-” she shoots question after question, rapid fire, and Drake gives Launchpad an apologetic look.

“She’s very… spirited…” he offers as an explanation for her behavior, Launchpad laughing at this, and Drake finds he quite likes the sound of it.


	3. Honey, That's How it Sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things settle into a new kind of normal. For a while...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally things are picking up a bit! Hope this chapter gets you guys all excited for the coming ones :3 Thanks again to my amazing beta Night Owl (ily!!!) and thanks to everyone in the server for the support!

Gosalyn eventually tires herself out from her constant questioning, and Drake shoos her off to go feed the chickens, and now that everything is calming down, he remembers all the chores he needs to get done himself and sighs.

“Welp, I’ve gotta get some stuff done around the farm. Can I get you anything before I go?” he asks, standing up and dusting off his overalls. Launchpad tilts his head in confusion, “You’ve already done plenty for me, why don’t I help-” he begins standing up, only to collapse back to the couch the second he steps on his bad leg.

“Right…” he sighs, one of his ears twitching in agitation.

“You take your time to get better, alright?” Drake smiles, patting his knee, “You can start earning your keep only once you can walk on that leg.” 

His eyes widen when Launchpad grasps his hand with both of his, and he notices for the first time just how big they are compared to his own.

“Thank you  _ so much _ for what you’re doing for me, really.” he says earnestly, and Drake squirms under the intensity of his gaze, feeling like he could combust at any moment.

“Uhm, yeah of course! It-It’s nothing!” Drake stammers, clearing his throat and holding his hand close once Launchpad relinquishes it from his big paws. After a bit more awkward stumbling and fumbling through his words, Drake finally manages to escape to the outside, leaning against the door behind him and taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. It really was not fair how handsome he was…

Drake busies himself with his long list of chores, tending to the garden, making sure everyone was fed and on the right pasture, all under the hot late summer sun. By the time he’s finished he’s looking forward to guzzling down a gallon of Gosalyn’s famous lemonade and a shower, walking by the barn and fanning himself with his hat, when he hears a loud clatter inside. Raising a brow as he notices the door was open, sure he closed it earlier, he steps inside. All seems fine after a quick glance around, and he wonders just how tired he must be, when he hears that same clatter again.

“No, not like that! Try again, just how I showed you.” comes Gosalyn’s voice, which was weird since his daughter did not typically tend to talk to herself, when his heat addled mind finally caught up to what was probably going on.

His suspicions are confirmed when he comes to Ginger’s stall and finds Gosalyn and their new houseguest seated with a bucket in front of them. Taking on his tried and true ‘angry dad’ pose, Drake props his hands on his hips then clears his throat. Launchpad and Gosalyn both still and look up at him slowly, and the moment of silence shared between the three is broken only when Ginger decides to moo.

“I have so many questions right now.” Drake sighs, massaging his temple from the headache he can already feel building. Both duck and dog begin speaking, each trying to explain themselves, and Drake just holds a hand up to stop them both, gesturing at Gosalyn to hear her side of the story first.

“Launchpad just wanted to help out with something cause he was cooped up in the house all alone! I definitely didn’t bring him here so he could finish my chores for me!” she says rapidly, wincing at the end of her little spiel once she realizes her mistake. “I mean uh-”

“Uh huh, looks like I know who’s on dish washing duty for the rest of the week.” he cuts her off, and she pouts and crosses her arms in a huff, muttering a quiet ‘Darn’. Drake then turns to Launchpad, who gives him a weak smile.

“What happened to waiting until your leg is better?” he shakes his head, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at his beak.

“Gosalyn took-” a small hand comes up in front of his snout, keeping him from speaking.

“We  _ borrowed _ one of your crutches from that time you broke your leg after you fell off the barn when you were trying to fix it.” she says with an innocent smile, and Drake winces at the memory.

Fixing them each with one last stern stare, he can’t help but laugh at the both of them, letting his momentary anger bleed away. “Fine, fine, you two are off the hook for this one, but really, Launchpad, you should be resting right now.” he says, picking up his crutch from where it leans nearby and handing it to Launchpad as he gets up carefully. Launchpad just nods, knowing better than to argue as he limps back to the house, Drake joining him until he notices Gosalyn following, and he stops her with a hand to the shoulder.

“Gosalyn, I think you can finish up the milking just fine by yourself.” Drake chides, and Gosalyn meets his stare in a quick battle of wills, turning with a sigh back to the cows once she loses.

Stepping outside, Drake shivers at the sudden chill that’s taken over, a sure sign that fall was soon approaching.

“I’d offer you my jacket but uh, don’t have it,” Launchpad laughs, passing a hand through his hair, and Drake looks up at him with a shy smile, wrapping his arms a little tighter around himself, “That’s alright-” he begins, breath caught in his throat when a big arm comes around his shoulders, and he’s suddenly being pulled into Launchpad’s side. He’s definitely much warmer now, his face a red mess, and he doesn’t have the will power to pull away from the larger dog.

“Thanks…” Drake squeaks out, soul very near leaving his body when Launchpad squeezes him a little tighter.

“Sure thing, bud!” Launchpad barks, tail wagging happily, and Drake doesn’t feel the chill of the coming fall at all.

The rest of the day passes smoothly, Drake making dinner, (which Launchpad ate seconds, then thirds, then fourths of) blushing under the slew of compliments from the werewolf over how amazing his cooking was, then getting ready for bed. Which reminds him that the couch was going to be much too small for Launchpad, and there was no guest room for him to stay in, only leaving one option.

“I really don’t mind sharing a bed, so long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.” Launchpad assures him for maybe the fifth time, and Drake wonders how someone so sweet could exist.

“Alright, if you’re sure…” he says, avoiding his gaze to keep from losing his nerve and just condemning himself to sleeping on the couch. Launchpad grabs his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and he glances up only to be blinded by a bright smile, and his heart does something funny in his chest. The werewolf then steps into the bathroom for a shower, and Drake sits on his bed, bouncing his leg nervously, until Gosalyn pokes her head into his room.

“Gonna come say good night?” she yawns, and he nods, snapping out of it and letting her tug him by the hand to her room. Settling into the motions of getting her all tucked in and comfortable, he leans down to peck her on the forehead, running his fingers through her unkempt hair and sighing.

“Everything alright, Dad?” Gosalyn asks, closing her eyes and leaning into the hand petting her hair.

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart. Everything’s fine,” Drake hums, peppering a few more kisses on her cheeks just because he can. “What do you think about Launchpad?” he finds himself asking, and Gosalyn cracks open an eye to look at him.

“Launchpad? He seems nice, also he’s a werewolf, which is like the coolest thing ever.” she shrugs, curling up and cuddling closer to her pillow. Of course her answer would be so simple, and he smiles softly and kisses her forehead one more time.

“He does seem pretty cool, huh?” he chuckles, getting up and heading over to the door, “Good night, Gosalyn, I love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad…” then she’s out like a light and he closes the door behind him quietly.

Padding back to his own bedroom, he finds Launchpad sitting on the bed, freshly showered and wrapping clean bandages around a cut on his arm, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Oh here, let me help,” Drake offers, sitting next to him and holding his hands out for the roll of bandages. Launchpad hands them over, looking embarrassed, “Sorry, was hoping I wouldn’t have to bother you.”

Drake wraps the bandage carefully around his thick arm, “It’s no bother, don’t worry.” he says as he works, tying off the gauze and pressing a kiss to the wound unconsciously, and once he realizes what’s just happened he wishes he could just crawl into a whole and scream for a few years.

“I’M SO SORRY! I’M JUST USED TO DOING THAT FOR GOSALYN WHENEVER SHE GETS HURT!” he yells in a rush, hiding his face behind his hands and backing up as far away from the other man as he can get until he slips off the side of the bed. He never hits the floor though as big hands catch his arm and pull him back up, and he peeks through his fingers to find Launchpad chuckling, an unbearably cute flush gracing his cheeks.

“You’re ok, hey maybe it’ll heal faster now, right?” he says, rubbing his neck nervously. Drake only buries his face in his hands further, groaning, “Ugh, I’m never going to be able to live that down, am I?

Eventually getting over his mortification, he gets into bed, trying not to think about how it wasn’t the biggest bed ever so they’d definitely be a little close tonight. The mattress dips as the dog settles into bed next to him, and Drake tries to stay as still as he possibly can, waiting until everything goes still and quiet to turn on his side, only to come nose to nose with Launchpad. Both share an awkward laugh and mutter quick ‘Good night’s’ then turn over so they don’t face each other. 

Drake isn’t that heavy of a sleeper, the slightest sounds and movements easily waking him, so trying to sleep in the same bed as someone else proves difficult. Especially when he can feel that someone trembling in bed next to him, broken whimpers and snuffles catching his attention. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, he sits up and glances over at his new bedmate, frowning when he sees his face is screwed up in what appeared to be pain, his hands clutching at his arms, digging his short claws in.

Not wanting to see him suffering from what was likely a nightmare, Drake shakes him by the arm gently, “Launchpad? Hey, hey wake up.”

He scoots back when Launchpad awakes with a startled snort, shooting up to take in deep lungfuls of air, looking around wildly and only calming once his brain catches up to the events of the past day. His eyes meet Drake’s, and he looks so terrified his heart breaks.

“Is- Are you alright?” he asks, reaching out a hand to hold his arm but thinking better of it, he knew how Gosalyn could be after nightmares. Launchpad takes a few more moments to come back to himself, waiting until his breathing slows to take a final deep breath, closing his eyes and letting it out shakily.

“Yeah… ‘m fine… just a- just a little nightmare,” he sighs, slouching to rub a hand over his face. Drake lets his hands fall into his lap, “Do you wanna… talk about it?” he asks, fidgeting where he sits, not really good at this kind of stuff. All he was good at was giving Gosalyn hugs once she finally calmed down, and he wasn’t too sure how receptive this man he’d known for a day would be to hugs.

“I uh- it’s stupid…” Launchpad groans, pulling his face from his hands to glance at Drake with a sad smile. 

“If it’s making you feel like this, it’s certainly not stupid.” Drake reassures him, and Launchpad looks away to a corner of the room.

“It’s just, when I first turned, a long, long time ago, things almost went really bad… and I- it still scares me even years later thinking about what I could have done.” he begins, and Drake sits quietly.

“That first shift is always the worst, your body is practically building a brand new one in the span of a minute, and the pain is so bad that lots of werewolves still remember how it felt even when they’re eighty. You also have little to no control of your actions during that first shift, which is when most of the stories about werewolf attacks happen. Since it’s so bad, my family always made sure to be super prepared for that first shift, we just happened to get… unlucky for mine.”

“I almost… she could’ve…” he falters now, and Drake startles when he sees tears are threatening to leak from his eyes. He decides that’s enough story telling for now and surges forward to wrap his arms around Launchpad’s neck in a tight hug. It was all he was good at, after all.

Launchpad stiffens in his hold, and he’s about to let go and apologize profusely when big, warm arms circle around his waist, hugging him back.

“You’re alright, what’s happened has happened, and all you can do now is be thankful that things didn’t go as bad as they could have.” he says softly, and Launchpad’s arms tighten around him.

He isn’t sure how long he’s held in that comfortable embrace, but the dog does eventually set him free, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and Drake rubs a hand over his arm, giving him a smile, “Don’t be.”

\---

_ In the quiet of the nearby woods, an imposing figure follows a bloody trail, coming up over a ridge to overlook the sparse valley below. The faint light glowing from the window of a quaint little farm house not too far away catches their eye, and they reach down to pull a phone from their pocket, pressing a few buttons before holding it up to their ear. _

_ “I think I’ve found him.” _


	4. Don't Let it in With No Intention to Keep It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villains are introduced, truths come out, feelings develop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew this chapter ended up a lot longer than I thought it would! Hope it doesn't disappoint! Thanks again of course to my beta Night Owl and the discord server as always for being amazing!
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!

The following morning, Launchpad wakes up to find he’s alone in bed, sitting up and letting out a big yawn as he stretches to test how much his body hurts today. The various scrapes and bruises around his body don’t hurt as much, but his leg still burns. He gets out of bed gingerly with the help of Drake’s crutch, hobbling into the kitchen and smiling when he spots the plate of breakfast sitting on the table for him. There’s also a cardboard box with a slip of paper resting on it, and he limps over a little faster to pick up the note, sliding into a chair and chowing down while reading.

_ “Good morning! Gosalyn and I are out and about the farm taking care of things, if you need anything come find us, we’re not too far. Found some more clothes that might fit you, by the way, check the box on the table. You’re more than welcome to any food we might have, and the tv is all yours (until Gosalyn eventually decides to ditch her chores).” _

Launchpad pockets the note with a smile, peeking into the box on the table. He pulls out a pair of overalls and chuckles, finishing up his breakfast before going to sit in the living room and see what’s on tv. Some cartoon about an angry raccoon and his snake companion holds his attention for a while until his stomach rumbles, letting him know it was close to lunch time, and he rises to change out of the pajamas Drake lent him to go and find his kind host.

Limping out the door, the werewolf begins his search, using his nose to guide him towards Drake’s familiar scent. He eventually finds the duck working in a little garden behind the house, kneeling in the dirt as he prunes what looks like a blackberry bush. Launchpad leans against the side of the house to rest his leg, sighing as he watches Drake work, and his tail swishes idly. His heart had been doing a lot of funny things whenever he looked at Drake lately, and his face heats up as he wonders what that might mean.

“Oh! Look who’s up!” Launchpad snaps out of his thoughts at Drake’s voice, his tail betraying his wish to appear calm and collected as it begins wagging faster. Drake is smiling and waving at him from his spot in the garden, and he looks so cute he finds himself smiling as well. He gets up and dusts off his pants, picking up a basket brimming with berries and coming over, Launchpad standing a little straighter and passing a hand through his hair, finding for some reason he cared how he looked around the other man.

“Nice overalls,” Drake snickers, hiding his laugh behind a hand and Launchpad’s tail wags so hard his whole body nearly moves with it. He flexes an arm and strikes a shaky pose, thanks to his leg, and Drake laughs even harder.

“I think it’s a good look,” Launchpad sniffs, “Besides, you wear overalls, too!” 

Drake snorts as he laughs, and Launchpad melts a little bit, “No, no, you look great!” Drake soothes, patting his arm. “Blackberry?” he asks, holding out the basket on his arm and Launchpad takes a handful happily.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he hums as he eats them, his ear twitching toward the sudden sound of rushing footsteps, and he turns just in time to catch the spirited duckling that leaps into his arms.

“Launchpad! You’re awake!” Gosalyn chirps, and he smiles at her, even if his leg protests at the extra weight.

“Hey kiddo, need more ‘help’ with your chores?” he teases, raising a brow, and Gosalyn clutches her hand to her chest with an exaggerated gasp.

“You wound me, sir!” she huffs, and he sets her down with a chuckle, “I definitely wasn’t planning on getting you to feed the chickens for me.”

Drake ruffles her hair with a fond sigh, “Always scheming, this one. Why don’t we head in and get some lunch, hm?”

After a simple lunch of sandwiches and fresh fruit, Launchpad offers to wash the dishes, and Drake stands next to him drying and putting them away. Gosalyn sits in the living room watching tv and the domesticity of it all makes Drake’s stomach flip. He looks over at Launchpad just as he turns to look at him, both of their faces warming. Drake opens his mouth, to say what, he’s not so sure, when there’s a knock at the door.

Launchpad perks up, turning to look at the door and take a sniff of the air. His fur suddenly stands on end, lip curling, and Drake takes a step back at just how much  _ meaner _ he looks, his bristling fur making him bigger and more imposing.

“Launchpad?” he asks, and the werewolf turns his body to face the door, reaching an arm back to pull Drake behind him, shielding him from whatever was causing this reaction.

“Go hide.” he whispers, and he sounds so serious Drake’s blood runs a little cold. He grabs at his arm, trying to turn the much larger man to face him. “What? Just let me see who it is!” he stage whispers, and Launchpad looks back at him with fearful eyes. Gosalyn joins them in the kitchen, looking confused and also a bit scared, and Launchpad pushes her behind him, too.

“Whoever it is, they don’t smell right… It could be dangerous.” Launchpad whines, and Drake gives him a stern look, “I’m not going to hide in my own home,” he argues, and Launchpad looks between him and the door before wilting, ears pinning back.

Drake tells him and Gosalyn to wait in his room, just in case this person was as bad as Launchpad feared, and steps up to the door slowly. He grabs the door knob tight, hesitating for a moment before opening it.

Standing at the door is a rather tall Falcon in a finely tailored suit, and Drake feels horribly small under the weight of their sharp stare.

“Uhm, can I help you?” Drake says after clearing his throat, trying to keep his cool as they certainly appeared intimidating, though he wasn’t so sure what about them was so off that Launchpad looked so scared.

“Yes, the name is Falcon Graves, I have a few questions for you.” he says with a gravelly accent, looking bored of this whole conversation already.

“Are you a… police officer or something?” Drake asks, and Falcon narrows his eyes slightly, “Of sorts. May I come in?”

Drake gulps, remembering Launchpad and Gosalyn currently hiding in his room.

“Why don’t we just talk right here?” he says with a tight smile, and the other man looks even angrier if possible but doesn’t protest.

“Fine. Have you had any werewolves come through your farm lately?”

He stiffens at this, clutching the door knob tighter.

“Werewolves? Why would there be werewolves here?” Drake quickly recovers, trying to play dumb, and Falcon sighs, “That doesn’t really matter, all I want to know is if there’s been a werewolf on the premises. Your family might be in danger.”

Drake is about to protest and argue that werewolves aren’t dangerous but one word stands out to him, “My family? It’s just me here.” he lies, wondering if this ‘Graves’ person already knew he had a family or if he was just assuming things.

“Right…” Falcon says after a pause, and Drake doesn’t quite like the look in his eyes, maybe he  _ shouldn’t  _ have said he was all alone.

“Ya know, there might not be any werewolves here, but the farm a couple of miles down the road was complaining the other night about hearing some howling.” Drake lies again, hoping that this would get the stranger off of his farm. There’s a tense moment where they both stare at one another, and Drake can feel sweat forming on his brow, when Falcon lets a very obviously forced smile form on his beak.

“Well I’d better go ask them then, thank you for your time, Mr. Mallard.” Falcon says, giving a short bow before turning and walking back to the black SUV that Drake just noticed was sitting in his dirt driveway. Drake closes the door with a shaky sigh, wiping at his sweaty brow and looking through the windows to watch and make sure Graves is finally gone as he gets in his car and drives off.

As if he sensed they were in the clear now, Launchpad comes bursting out of his room, limping over as fast as he could to grab Drake by the arms, looking over him desperately.

“You’re not hurt? They didn’t do anything, right?” he says in a rush, and Drake’s face burns. 

“I’m fine!” he tries to calm him down, but Launchpad isn’t pleased until he’s looked over him and even sniffs at his cheek, which only makes Drake blush harder.

“Launchpad…” he groans, embarrassed, and the dog finally sets him down, patting imaginary dust off of him in apology, “Sorry, I just couldn’t catch everything you guys were saying.”

Gosalyn appears as well, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug and he pets her hair gently.

“I’m alright, guys, really. He just asked me-” he looks down at Gosalyn still hugging him, realizing that this was a conversation he should be having with just Launchpad and not her. 

“Hey, Cupcake, I left my hat outside and I think it’s going to rain. Could you go grab it for me?” he lies once again, cupping her face so she would look at him. She gives him an unimpressed look, “If you wanna have an ‘adult’ conversation you could have just told me. I’ll be in my room.” she sighs, and Drake watches her go with a pout, she was too smart for her own good, sometimes.

He then turns to Launchpad, who’s still looking at him expectantly, wanting to know what just happened. 

“He asked me if there was a werewolf around here.” he explains, and Launchpad’s eyes widen. “Did you know that man? Is there something you’re hiding from us, because so help me if you are and I lied for nothing-”

“You lied for me?” Launchpad interrupts, and Drake stops in his tirade to glance up at his shocked expression.

“Well yeah, of course I did!” Drake scoffs, throwing his arms up, “You’ve been nothing but kind to us, and given me no reason to mistrust you. Until now, at least.” he crosses his arms over his chest. Launchpad looks as if he’s been struck, and sags in sadness, reaching out to grab his arms again. 

“You have every right to be angry with me, but I promise you, I know  _ nothing  _ about that guy or why he’d be looking for me. I mean, there’s lots of people who are out to get me and my boss but, my nose didn’t recognize this one.” he says, tapping his snout, and Drake fixes him with a doubtful glare. Launchpad lets go of him to rest his right hand over his heart and raise his left, “Woodchuck’s honor.”

Drake stares at him and his honest eyes, and uncrosses his arms, rubbing at his forehead, “I believe you.” The werewolf gives him a wide smile, taking his hands in his own and squeezing, leaning down a bit to look at him earnestly.

“Drake I- I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest with you,” he sighs, “From now on, complete and total honesty, whatever you want to know.”

He looks at their hands and Launchpad’s insistent smile, “Tell me what really happened to you.”

\---

_ Launchpad was working on the Sunchaser in the manor’s private hangar when the lights suddenly cut off, and he looks around confused, stepping out of the plane’s cargo hold. _

_ “Hello? Mr. McDee is that you? I know you like to save on the electricity bill but I’m still working in here.” he calls out, getting no answer.  _

_ A blow to the back of the head has him staggering, and he collapses with a groan. _

_ When he comes to a few hours later, he’s tied to the chair he’s sitting in, surrounded by Beagle Boys. His lip curls in a snarl, and he goes to speak but the muzzle around his snout makes that difficult. Hatred burning in his gaze, he contents himself with growling at the crowd around him who all jeer and laugh. They part suddenly, and Ma Beagle is standing before him, scowling and glaring. _

_ “Hello, chauffeur.” she says with a sickening sweet smile, and Launchpad only growls harder. “Now, now, don’t be like that! We’re like you!” she laughs, teeth glinting as she does, and Launchpad watches in horror as she shifts before him, now bigger and more intimidating.  _

_ “Practically family…” she rumbles, her voice deeper, “And family, helps family, right?” she speaks as she stalks around him, the voices of random sons speaking up in assent. _

_ “So why don’t you help us out, hm? All we’re asking is for you to head out of town for a little while until the full moon later this month is over.” she barks, coming to stand in front of him and bare her teeth. _

_ Launchpad shakes his head angrily, gnashing his teeth at her but she backs off before he can reach her. Her eyes narrow then flit to the side, and suddenly his chair is tipped over, and a swift kick to the ribs has him yelping. He tried so hard to shift, but his head wasn’t clear enough for it, there was too much going on, and now he can hardly breathe, his lungs burning. _

_ “Now you listen here, we’re taking over that mansion come next full moon, and you’re not gonna be there to stop us one way or another.” she huffs, shifting back into her normal form before turning and beginning to walk out. “I’m sure my boys can help change your mind." _

_ Launchpad loses track of time after a thorough beating from the Beagle Boys, laying on the floor, exhausted and in pain. _

_ “Now, I’m hoping we’re gonna get a different answer this time around. Are you going to ditch Scrooge and the brats, or what?” comes Ma Beagle’s voice above him, and he glares up at her once he works up the strength to do so. _

_ “No.” he spits out through his muzzle, howling when she scratches her claws across his cheek. _

_ “Fine. We tried to do this the nice way.” _

_ Later, Launchpad is in unfamiliar woods, delirious with pain from a newly acquired gunshot wound to the leg, but the Beagle Boys who drove him all the way out here had turned tail and run at least. His nose catches the scent of something cooking, the smell of a home, the smell of safety, and he follows it desperately, driving himself on despite the pain. _

_ He had to stay alive, he had a family to warn. _

\---

They’re sitting on the couch now, and sometime during the story, Drake had grabbed Launchpad’s hand to run his thumb over his knuckles. He looks over each and every bandaged wound in a new light, wondering if that bruise was a kick or a punch, from who and how that pain had been inflicted. Launchpad sits quietly in the aftermath of the truth, a far off stare in his eyes, and Drake touches his cheek, ignoring the bandage there, to turn his face and look him in the eyes.

“I’m… I’m so sorry you had to go through that all alone.” he whispers, and Launchpad leans into his hand, closing his eyes with a tired sigh.

“I’m alright now, thanks to you.” Launchpad says with a small smile, “I just need to get back to my family. The full moon is next week.” 

Drake nods, “We’ll get you there, alright? I promise.” 

Launchpad stares at him for a long moment, and Drake’s breath catches in his throat when a big paw comes up to cup his cheek, “Thank you.”

Drake feels like he’s frozen, eyes wide as Launchpad leans the slightest bit closer, and he leans back, gasping. They both freeze now, realizing what’s going on, and Launchpad lets him go to scoot back a bit, clearing his throat.

“I uh- uhm… you’re welcome…” Drake stammers, his heart racing in his chest. He remembers something he had been meaning to give Launchpad and gets up, “I’ll be right back, you just- just sit there for a second.”

He rushes over to the laundry room, passing Gosalyn’s door on the way, which he notices is slightly cracked open. Frowning at this, he opens the door a little bit more, finding Gosalyn sitting next to it with wide, teary eyes.

“Cupcake-?”

“Can I go give him a hug?” she asks, sniffling, and Drake pulls her up to stand and ruffle her hair. 

“Yeah, make it an extra tight one, ok?” he says, leaning down to peck her on the forehead before going back to what he was doing. In the laundry room, he pulls down Launchpad’s jacket from a cabinet, newly patched up, and comes to the living room with it hidden behind his back.

Gosalyn is still hugging Launchpad, and he’s hugging her back with a sad smile, tears leaking from his eyes. He clears his throat, catching Launchpad’s attention, and presents his jacket.

“I woke up extra early this morning to work on it. Patched it up as best I could.” he says, sitting back down next to Launchpad and handing it to him as he lets go of Gosalyn. 

Launchpad looks down at the jacket in his hands reverently, tracing his fingers over every new patch and stitch. Drake is then being pulled into a warm hug, and he hugs Launchpad back carefully, nestling closer into his chest. Gosalyn joins them in their hug, and it all feels so right Drake knows he’s going to have plenty of things to think about the rest of the day.

Later that night, when he and Launchpad go to bed, he joins their hands as they fall asleep, neither saying anything about it, and in the morning, if Drake wakes up in Launchpad’s arms, comfier than he’s ever felt, neither say anything about it.


	5. Don't Be Kind to It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A normal day on the farm and a not so normal night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of the calm before the storm so to speak as I look at my plans for the coming chapters, so enjoy the happy times while they last >:3c
> 
> Thank you Night Owl for beta-ing as always, I super duper appreciate it! And thanks to my friends (and fambily) in the server, love you guys sm!
> 
> Comments and Kudos much appreciated, enjoy!

The next few days on the farm are calm and normal. Well, as normal as things can get with a werewolf staying there, but there are no more visits from strange men in suits and no angry werewolf packs searching for their house guest, so Drake would call them pretty normal, all things considered. Launchpad slowly gets better, not needing the crutch as much, and limping around with Drake and Gosalyn as they went about their days doing chores, always watching and asking to help, tail wagging and ears perked.

He and Launchpad still have this unnamed _ thing _ between them, their near kiss the other night constantly in the back of Drake’s mind, and now when they go to bed they always find themselves in each others arms, but both never say anything about it when they wake up in the morning. Drake’s never felt so comfortable and safe than when in Launchpad’s secure hold, and they just fit together so well that he can’t help but wonder what it all means for the both of them. 

The approaching deadline of the full moon also complicates things, with only a week until the dreaded date, and Drake’s truck would be back from the shop any day now. As much as Drake knew family was important and that Launchpad needed to get back to them as fast as possible, a selfish part of himself wished the werewolf didn’t have to go just yet, even if he was still reluctant to admit just why he wanted Launchpad to stay.

Waking up to the insistent beeping of his alarm, Drake groans and goes to curl up tighter in Launchpad’s arms, only to nestle deeper into the sheets, no furry limbs wrapped around him for once. This wakes him up immediately as Launchpad has never been up before him yet, and he shoots up in bed to look around the room desperately, no sign of the dog anywhere. His mind immediately races with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I told you so’s’, convincing himself that Launchpad had finally gotten tired of waiting and just run off to go and warn his family, or that Launchpad was lying the whole time and had robbed them blind in the middle of the night.

He scrambles out of bed in a flurry, a tangle of blankets and sheets, heart dropping to his stomach at every terrible scenario running through his head, all of them involving Launchpad leaving him and Gosalyn for good. Stumbling into the kitchen, Drake comes to a halt when the smell of cooking bacon hits his nose, and he turns to see Launchpad hunched over the stove, looking half awake, hair mussed in a way that made him look even more handsome than usual.

“Oh, hey there, Drake! Good morning!” Launchpad chirps cheerfully, voice still gravelly from sleep, and Drake nearly sighs with relief seeing the other man, holding a hand over his chest in hopes it would calm his still racing heart.

“Everything alright?” he asks as he slides bacon onto three plates piled high with breakfast foods, bringing them over to the table and setting them down. Now assured that Launchpad wasn’t leaving just yet, Drake smiles, banishing all those thoughts from earlier away. 

“Yeah, LP, I’m fine.” he chuckles, breathless, and he looks at the plates of breakfast, his brain finally catching up and processing them.

“Wait, did you make all of this?” Drake looks up at Launchpad as he asks, raising a brow, and the dog’s tail begins wagging.

“I did! Just thought it was the least I could do after all you’ve done for me,” he says, twiddling his thumbs nervously, “Besides, you’ve cooked me breakfast every morning since I’ve been here, I had to pay you back at some point.”

Launchpad comes over to usher him into a seat at the table, pushing his chair in like a proper gentleman and putting a plate in front of him. It all looked delicious, eggs, bacon and pancakes cooked to perfection, and Drake stares at it all in awe.

“Launchpad… you didn’t have to-”

“You’re doing so much for me already, let me give you this.” Launchpad cuts him off, resting a hand over his on the table, and Drake’s face warms. 

Before he can say anything else, Gosalyn makes her presence known with an over exaggerated yawn, shuffling her way over to the table and sitting down.

“Keen gear, Launchpad! This looks way better than anything Dad ever made!” she gasps, pulling a plate of food closer to her and beginning to dig in while Drake looks on in betrayal. 

After an amazing breakfast, Drake and Gosalyn head out to take care of their chores, Launchpad following after them with only a slight limp to his step. It’s insane how routine this all feels already, how comfortable he feels having Launchpad join them. He really has become a part of their little family already, as much as it pains Drake to admit it and realize he’s going to leave one day, but he figures he may as well enjoy this all while it lasts.

Watching him as he sprinkles feed for the chickens, the girls jumping all over him whenever he gets close, Drake’s chest seizes when Launchpad seems to feel his gaze and meets his eyes. The dog waves carefully over at him as there are chickens perched on his shoulders and one even sitting on his head and Drake hides his laugh behind a hand. He waves back from where he’s brushing Buttercup, a sweet old mare that Gosalyn just had to have the second she saw her, and Launchpad’s tail wags more vigorously.

Getting the hens off of him and heading over, Launchpad rubs a hand over Buttercup’s nose, and she lets him despite being infamous for hating strangers, Drake watching in awe as he does so. Seems he had a knack for getting most everyone on the farm to fall for him.

“What’s her name?” he asks, coming closer to Drake as he scratches at her neck.

“Buttercup, she’s Gosalyn’s. Saw her at auction one year and Gosalyn wouldn’t let us leave without her,” Drake smiles at the memory, and as if she sensed her name being said, his daughter joins them.

“Yup! Ms. Buttercup here is the fastest horse in all of Calisota!” Gosalyn says with pride, Buttercup leaning down to nudge at her cheek and make her giggle. 

“Can I go for a ride, Dad? Can I, Can I, Can I?” she begs, bouncing up and down excitedly, Drake unable to deny her much so he nods with a smile.

“Fine, fine! Just don’t stay out too long, Buttercup isn’t that young anymore,” he chuckles, earning a _ thwap _ to the face from her tail as payback.

As Gosalyn rides off, Drake leans against the barn and watches her go, chest aching as he realizes just how big she’s gotten since he adopted her. She wasn't that little girl from two years ago, so eager to be a part of the farm and take care of the animals with him. Gosalyn was really growing into her own now, and as she gallops away he remembers when he was too terrified to let her even get near Buttercup let alone ride her.

But after months of whittling away at his doubts through hard work and taking the time to retrain the old horse, she finally convinced him to let her get on her back. Of course, she fell off and almost broke her arm, but she got right back on, more excited than ever to ride. He thinks it says a lot about the kind of girl his daughter was, and he loved her endlessly for her amazing spirit.

“She sure is a special kid, huh?” Launchpad says from beside him, and Drake shifts to lean against the taller man instead, not seeing the blush that dusts his cheeks. 

“Yeah, she is…” Drake sighs, and Launchpad wraps an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tight.

“She’s lucky to have such an- an awesome dad,” he stammers, and Drake glances up at him to find his ears pinned back, looking anywhere but him as his face burns. He watches a bee buzz by idly in the wind, and Drake nestles in a little closer to him, “I’m an alright Dad, definitely not the best.”

Launchpad turns him so they’re facing one another, holding him by the shoulders, “What are you talking about? You’re amazing! Look at the life you made here for Gosalyn! This is a beautiful farm, and for all she complains about chores I can tell she loves it here.”

Drake flushes under the praise, turning away from Launchpad’s insistent smile to stare at the ground, “You really think so?” he murmurs, letting out a whoosh of air as he’s pulled into a tight embrace.

“I know so.”

As Drake works around the farm, the sun beats down relentlessly on his back and he can feel sweat dripping from what feels like every feather, and he stops in his attempts to move a bale of hay to sit down on the ground and try and catch his breath.

“Need some help there?” Launchpad asks, hovering over him with a smile, and Drake pouts at how unfazed he looks.

“Be my guest…” Drake huffs, gesturing at the hay bales he needed to get in the barn before laying back against the ground. Launchpad goes over to the bales and lifts two effortlessly, not even breaking a sweat as he finishes up Drake’s chores, and if Drake stares while he works, taking in those strong arms and broad shoulders, Launchpad is none the wiser. 

He nearly chokes on his own spit as Launchpad takes off his jacket, better showing off his arms, then uses his shirt to wipe at his brow, exposing his soft stomach. He wasn’t necessarily the most defined in the abs region, but Drake only found him all the more handsome for it, the heat of the midday sun not the only thing making his face red.

Launchpad finally takes notice of his staring and gives him a quick wink as he hefts a hay bale up onto his shoulder, flexing his free arm to show off, and Drake laughs as he does so, picking himself up off the floor and dusting his pants off. Done moving all the bales, Launchpad comes over, looking sweaty but pleased with a few pieces of hay clinging to his hair, so Drake waves him down so he could get them out, trying to ignore just how close they were, how he could peck Launchpad on the cheek if he so desired.

“You know, we might just have to keep you around, that werewolf strength sure could come in handy here.” Drake smiles, patting Launchpad’s arm.

“Oh really?” Launchpad chuckles, picking his jacket up from where he left it and draping it around Drake’s shoulders, snickering at how small he looked in it, “I’d be more than happy to, if you’d have me.” he says in a small, hopeful voice, and Drake can’t deny how his heart picks up pace at the mere thought of Launchpad staying here with them.

“I’ll uh… I’ll keep you in mind if any job openings for a ‘freakishly strong farmhand’ come up.” Drake tugs Launchpad’s jacket tighter around himself as a cool breeze sweeps through the farm, the werewolf looking at him in a way that makes the feathers on the back of his neck stand up, wondering if this is how prey feels before the kill. He seemingly snaps out of whatever stupor he was in, reaching out to adjust the collar of his jacket, fingers lingering against Drake’s neck and making him shiver, “Think I’m qualified for the position?”

His voice has become quieter, as if scared to ruin whatever this little moment between them is, and Drake swallows when their eyes meet, deep green versus dark brown. 

“Definitely more than qualified, you’d be silly to take the job.” 

“What if I really like it here?”

“Then… then you should sta-”

“GUYS WATCH OUT!”

Moment shattered like fine glass, Drake and Launchpad spring apart, both just noticing how close they had gotten to one another, just in time to avoid the small herd of sheep and the soon to be in big trouble daughter that comes barreling between them.

“Buttercup broke a fence in the sheep pen! Sorry can’t talk now please don’t be mad!” Gosalyn yells over the noise and Drake rubs his forehead against the coming headache.

The rest of the day is spent rounding up the escaped sheep, repairing fences, and lecturing Gosalyn, and after dinner they’re all so exhausted they end up napping together on the living room couch, Drake curled into Launchpad’s side and Gosalyn draped across both of their laps. When Drake wakes up, a quick check of the clock lets him know it’s close to midnight, and he wonders what woke him when Launchpad fidgets next to him, and he notices his leg bouncing energetically.

“Launchpad? You ok?” Drake yawns, carefully picking up Gosalyn and moving her over so the werewolf’s constant moving doesn’t wake her.

“Yeah, ‘m fine! It’s just a half moon night, gives me a lot of energy.” Launchpad barks, his voice a little bit deeper, and if Drake didn’t know any better it looked like his teeth were bigger, _ sharper _.

He then gets up to begin pacing back and forth in front of him, seemingly full of restless energy, Drake nearly getting dizzy just watching him. Launchpad suddenly turns to him, tail knocking over something on the coffee table in his excitement, and Drake blushes when he kneels in front of him and grabs his hands, the imagery reminding him of a proposal.

“Would you come howl with me?” Launchpad asks in a rush, words growled out and slurred together in some places, and Drake raises a brow, “Howl?”

“Yeah! We always howl on half and full moons! Gets all this energy out,” Launchpad explains, tail beating against the floor so hard Drake wonders which would break first, his tail or his floors.

“Wha’s all this ‘bout howling?” Gosalyn groans, probably waking up thanks to Launchpad’s inability to keep his voice down.

“Gosaroonie! You should come with!” Launchpad gasps, scooting over to sniff at her face, making her giggle and push him away with tired hands. 

“Launchpad, it’s nearly midnight and-”

“Please?” Launchpad whines, and Drake falters, his eyes so bright and hopeful that Drake finds he’s literally incapable of saying no.

“Well alright-”

“YES!” the werewolf cheers, getting up off the floor and running about the room in a flurry.

“Just- Just give me a second!” he pants, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and he runs out the front door, Drake sharing a confused look with Gosalyn.

When Launchpad comes back inside, he has to crouch down to get through the door, thanks to the fact that he’s… different now (and not just because he isn’t wearing a shirt). Drake vaguely recalls how Launchpad had looked when he first found him, how big he was even when beaten and bloody, but now that he’s healed up and standing, Drake finds his werewolf form _ much _ bigger than he remembered it. 

Launchpad looks nervous as he steps carefully inside, hands twisting together and tail curling between his legs, and despite the much longer claws and vicious looking teeth, Drake thinks Launchpad couldn’t hurt a fly in this form even if he wanted to.

“Keen gear! You look awesome, Launchpad!” Gosalyn crows, running over to him to walk all around his new form, holding her chin as she observes him.

Launchpad stands a little taller, his head almost hitting the ceiling, and Drake has to crane his neck even further to take him all in. He’s easily two heads taller than Drake at his full height, and he gets up to stand in front of the gentle giant, his head only reaching Launchpad’s belly, and before he can tell himself not to, one of his hands is on the werewolf’s stomach, scratching gently.

His leg kicks into high gear, one big foot pounding against the floor, and Gosalyn bursts into boisterous laughter.

“You’re like a big puppy!” she giggles, and Drake decides to have mercy on Launchpad by pulling his hand away, and his leg immediately stills, pouting at the two of them with big yellow eyes.

“Sorry, sorry! Couldn’t resist,” Drake apologizes, and Launchpad hunches over onto all fours to nose at his face, grumbling at him.

“You guys aren’t scared of me… when I’m like this?” he growls, his deeper voice making Drake’s stomach flip, and he grabs onto his snout to look him in the eyes.

“Of course not, we trust you, no matter what form.” Drake scoffs, the mere thought of being afraid of the other man, who he had come to consider a friend (and possibly more?), so ridiculous that he shakes his head.

“Besides, like Gosalyn said, you’re just a big puppy.” he teases, and Launchpad scowls at him before an evil glint comes into his eye, and a big, wet tongue laves over his cheek, making his feathers stand up.

“Just a puppy, huh?” Launchpad snorts as Drake stands there, mouth agape.

“Why you-!” Drake cries, and Launchpad turns tail to run out the front door as the duck gives chase, Gosalyn laughing as she follows.

Launchpad’s loud, wheezing laughter fills the air as he runs on all fours, a smile splitting Drake’s face despite his best wishes, until the werewolf turns suddenly and Drake yelps as he comes crashing into his furry chest. Big familiar arms wrap around Drake as they go falling to the ground, and the duck’s face burns as he watches Launchpad laugh, the way his nose crinkles and his eyes screw shut making him melt.

Gosalyn joins their little pile, and Launchpad gives them both a big, toothy smile as he stands, still holding Drake, and grabbing Gosalyn to set her on his shoulder.

“Hold on tight, guys.”

“Wait why- AAAAH!”

Drake’s scream turns into a peal of laughter as Launchpad begins sprinting off into the forest, the rush of air whipping at his face making him feel like he was flying. Launchpad’s arm squeezes him tighter as he runs, hugging him closer to his side, and Drake clings onto the fur of his chest, gasping as they come up the big hill near the farm, the view of the valley below them breathtaking.

The werewolf comes to a halt at the top of the hill, setting Drake down on wobbly legs, and he laughs when he gets a look at Gosalyn’s windswept hair, her seat on Launchpad’s shoulder causing her to get a few leaves in it as well. She’s still a bit dazed by the sudden run but manages to stick her tongue out at him anyways, and before Drake can sass her, Launchpad tips his head back and his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, a low, baritone howl coming from deep in his chest.

Both Gosalyn and Drake listen for a moment, until Gosalyn begins howling as well, Launchpad’s tail wagging as she does so, and Drake follows suit, feeling only a little silly as he does his best wolf howl. One of Launchpad’s big hands comes to rest on his waist as they howl, and Drake puts his hands on the dog’s chest as he’s pulled closer, able to feel the vibration of his voice.

As their howl comes to an end, everyone catches their breath, smiling and chuckling together. “Sorry if that sounded awful, or if I said something offensive without knowing.” Drake snickers, stepping back from Launchpad, though his hand remains on his hip.

“Drake… you sounded beautiful…” Launchpad says reverently, not a hint of a joke in his voice, and the farmer is glad it’s dark out so his friend can’t see the blush that takes over his face.

“Let’s do it again! That was fun!” Gosalyn cheers, and Launchpad chuckles before beginning to howl again, and Drake loses track of just how much time they spend there, the dull glow of the half moon a constant reminder that this would all come to an end in the next week.

Finally in bed after an exciting night of howling and running about the forest until Launchpad tired himself out, Drake finds he’s too tired to resist curling up close to the werewolf, who has yet to shift back into his usual form, and he falls asleep easily, fingers buried in warm fur and cheek resting on Launchpad’s slowly rising and falling chest. Launchpad holds the duck close to him as he sleeps, tired from the events of the night but his thoughts don’t let him join the other in sleep just yet.

His mind runs in circles of what he was going to do once Drake’s truck came back from the shop, of how things would be once all this mess with the Beagle Pack was over. Would he come back to be with Drake? Did Drake even want him here? Were all of the little moments between them just all in his head and really meant nothing? 

Drake makes a soft noise in his sleep, gripping his fur tighter and nuzzling his face further into his chest, and Launchpad thinks his heart skips a beat because of how adorable it was. He curls tighter around the smaller man, clenching his eyes shut as he takes a deep breath, letting his soothing scent fill his nose. 

He dreaded thinking about what would happen as the full moon drew closer and closer, hoping against all hope that his family was safe and not worrying about him too much, and that he would soon have answers to all the questions running through his head.


	6. Something Else When I See You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone makes their return, confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy! This is the chapter that I've been most looking forward to writing and posting!!! I hope I really captured what I wanted to convey and that all you guys like what I have to offer!
> 
> Thank you Night Owl as always! Love ya! And of course thank you to the server for keeping me motivated on my longest fic yet!
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!

Drake wakes up in a good mood for the first time in a long while the next day, Launchpad curled around him, having fallen asleep in his werewolf form, and it takes him a second to extricate himself from the pile of fur and limbs. Once he’s finally free from Launchpad’s hold, he smiles down at him, running a hand through his soft red locks, giving into the temptation of placing a quick kiss to his forehead before fleeing the room, afraid he’ll be caught in the act.

He settles for a quick breakfast of plain old cereal, wanting to go ahead and get started with his day, and he steps out to greet the cool morning with a sigh, the sun slowly making its way up over the horizon. As he makes his rounds to all the animals, he can’t help but feel like something is off, the surrounding valley quieter than usual, like there's some tension in the air just waiting to be broken.

After setting the pigs loose on their pasture, he heads to the barn to check on the cows when he gets the distinct feeling of being watched, fear lacing up his spine, and he glances over his shoulder, only to find nothing there.

“Good morning, Mr. Mallard.”

Drake is sure he jolts three feet into the air, leaping back with a shrill yelp and falling onto his behind, gazing up fearfully at the imposing falcon standing in front of him. He clutches a hand over his racing heart, glaring at the other man as he gets up shakily, patting dirt off of his overalls.

“M-Mr. Graves! Give a guy a little warning next time, yeah?” Drake stammers, and Falcon’s face maintains that same bored, impassive sneer.

“My apologies, I should have announced my presence earlier.” he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, and warning sirens begin blaring in Drake’s head.

“Is there a reason you’re on  _ my _ property scaring the living daylights out of me?” the duck snaps, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. Falcon’s bored stare sharpens to one of anger, and Drake hopes the fear he feels doesn’t show as plainly on his face.

“As a matter of fact, this is hardly  _ your  _ property. Does dear Gosalyn know that you’re only one late payment away from losing it all?” he growls, an icy shard of panic stabbing into his chest. Drake physically recoils from his words, taking a step back in shock.

“How do you know about that? How do you know about my daughter?!” Drake shouts, arms falling from around his chest to shake at his sides, but he can’t tell if they’re shaking from fear or anger.

“Where’s the werewolf, Drake? Tell me and I can make all your money problems fade away.” Graves offers, moving closer to him with hands clenched into fists. Drake remembers Launchpad and Gosalyn sleeping soundly inside and gulps, glancing toward the house, and Falcon’s angry scowl melts into a smile that has Drake’s feathers standing on end.

“I see… you let him in like some stray mangy mutt just cause he gave you the ‘puppy dog’ eyes. A poor decision really, don’t you know how dangerous it is to let wild animals into your home?” Graves snarls, advancing further on him, and he scrambles backwards, stumbling over his feet and nearly falling again.

“S-Stop! He’s not dangerous!” Drake cries, gasping when his back meets the wall of the barn, and he glances around wildly for an escape as Graves gets closer.

Suddenly, there's a hand wrapping around his throat, and he grapples with that massive fist as he’s lifted off the ground and pinned against the wall, gasping for breath when those fingers squeeze tighter around him.

“Tell me where he is!” Graves shouts in his face, Drake’s vision going blurry, tears leaking from his eyes.

“He- He left!” Drake chokes out, kicking his legs uselessly at the falcon, wriggling in his grasp desperately.

“Lies! I can smell him all over this place! All over you…” he sneers in disgust, “And I know about your little howl last night,” Falcon leans in closer to his face, fist squeezing even tighter, and things start getting dark around the edges, Drake’s lungs burning, “Please… I- I can’t… can’t-”

Just as Drake feels like he’s going to pass out, a vicious snarl catches Drake’s attention, and he cracks open his eyes, smiling weakly at what he sees.

“Oh… looks like he came back…”

“LET. HIM. GO!” 

Launchpad roars as he comes charging toward them both on all fours, leaping at Graves and tackling him, his grip on Drake loosening and sending him to the ground. The rush of oxygen coming back into his lungs makes him cough and hack, gasping in great lungfuls of air. He sits up, still kind of out of it, and his eyes widen as he takes in the fight happening in front of him.

Launchpad and Graves throw punch after punch at one another, the sight of Launchpad baring his teeth so angrily making Drake see the werewolf in a new light. He may have been a soft teddy bear for him and Gosalyn, but now he knew that he was perfectly capable of causing some serious damage if he so chose. A swipe of one of his paws has Graves falling back with a shout, clutching his now bloody face.

“You mangy mutt!” he shrieks, and Drake gets the satisfaction of watching Launchpad land a punch right to his cheek then he’s out cold. Launchpad stands over him, chest heaving and fists clenched tight, that angry snarl still twisting his handsome features, when he seems to remember something and turns sharply, eyes locking onto Drake’s.

He comes bounding over on all fours, gathering the duck up in his arms once he’s close enough, one paw at his lower back and the other cradling his head. Launchpad holds him in a tight embrace, and Drake melts into it, allowing himself to calm down finally, until Launchpad pulls back, eyes roving all over him.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? What did he do to you?” he rambles, bringing his big nose closer to sniff at him and Drake thinks his whole face has turned red now, and not from lack of oxygen this time.

“I-I’m fine,” he rasps, throat aching, and he brings his hands up to push at Launchpad’s big chest, which does nothing at all to keep the werewolf at bay but it’s the thought that counts. “He just- caught me by surprise is all,” he tries to laugh it off, but Launchpad looks furious, and he realizes he’s staring at the broken and ruffled feathers of his neck, and gulps. 

“He… choked you?” he growls, tone sharp, and Drake can feel the powerful rumble of it in his chest where his hands lie. 

“Hey, hey now, I’m alright, see?” Drake attempts to soothe him, but then he’s being let go and Launchpad is turning on his heel to bound back over to where he left Graves in a heap on the floor, only to find he’s not there. 

“What?” he snarls, sniffing at the ground and appearing to follow a trail, a trail that Drake quickly figures out is headed right towards the house and-  _ Gosalyn _ .

Drake bolts after Launchpad as he begins sprinting, the sound of Gosalyn’s scream making his blood run cold, and he pushes himself to run faster. He rounds the corner of the house, skidding to a halt when he finds Graves pounding at the front door, blood dripping down his face, and he turns to him and Launchpad with an enraged, wild look in his eyes.

Launchpad puts himself in front of Drake, so he can’t see what happens next, but he gets the distinct feeling he should move out of the way. He steps to the side just as Launchpad gets tackled to the ground, Graves on top of him with his hands to his throat, and Drake sees red. Grabbing the first thing he can find, which just so happens to be one of Gosalyn’s baseball bats, he rushes forward with a battle cry,  _ cracking _ the falcon in the side of the head with his best home run swing.

Falcon goes still on top of Launchpad, turning towards Drake with a glare, completely unfazed. Drake drops the bat, crying out as Graves has now decided to focus his attention on him, clambering off of the werewolf to run at him instead. But he never gets close as he’s grabbed by the scruff of his neck, Launchpad tugging him back before turning and throwing him as hard as he can towards his black SUV, hard enough to dent the side of the car as he goes crashing into it.

Graves slumps to the ground, staggering in his attempts to get back up, and he leans against his car, clutching his side.

“I’ll… I’ll be back! And next time you won’t have that mutt to protect you!” he screams, voice hoarse as he opens the door and gets in the SUV, the engine coming to life with a low rumble, then he’s peeling away in a skid of tires and a cloud of kicked up dust. 

Confident he’s gone, Drake remembers Gosalyn and runs to the door, “Gosalyn! Gosalyn it’s Dad, open up!” he says, waiting with baited breath until the door bursts open and Gosalyn comes running into his arms, and before he can fall to the ground from the force of her hug, Launchpad, now in his usual form, catches them both.

“I was so scared something happened to you… Launchpad just ran outside looking angry and- and I tried to follow but then that creep came at me… and he tried to get inside… and-”

“Shh, shh, you’re alright… we’re here, Cupcake…” Drake rubs her back, some tears of his own leaking from his eyes, and he nestles closer to his little girl. Launchpad kisses the both of them on the forehead, squeezing them tight, “You’re safe now, I’ve got you guys…” he whispers, and Drake believes him.

The rest of the day passes slowly, as Drake had wanted to try and go back to things as normal, but Launchpad refused to let either him or Gosalyn out of his sight, keeping them all in the living room, declaring today a day of relaxation after the crazy events of the morning. They end up watching tv all day, sitting together on the couch, Launchpad’s arm draped around Drake’s shoulders, and as much as Drake hates being cooped up, he supposes there are worse things than getting to spend the day with two favorite people.

Eventually, day turns to night, and Gosalyn falls asleep in Launchpad’s lap, snoring softly. “Guess I should go put her down,” Drake whispers, moving to pick his little girl up when Launchpad grabs her instead, cradling her close with one big hand.

“I’ve got her, you go ahead and get ready for bed.” he says, leaning down to brush his lips against Drake’s temple before getting up and heading to her room. Drake tries not to read too much into the little kiss, maybe he didn’t mean to, or maybe he was just sniffing him again like he always did, and he reasons with himself that surely it was just a friendly gesture. 

Walking to his room, he passes by Gosalyn’s, peeking inside and smiling when he sees Launchpad reading his daughter a story, complete with acted out movements and silly voices. She had probably woken up while he was tucking her in, and she watches his storytelling enraptured, Drake’s chest aching at the scene. Leaving the two of them to get himself in bed, the duck pauses as he puts his pajamas on, looking in the mirror at his bruised neck.

Today could have been really bad had Launchpad not been there to save him, and his mind still runs in circles over how Graves knew so much about his life and the farm. Thinking about the farm and it’s money problems adds a whole new weight to his shoulders, and he collapses into bed with an exhausted sigh. 

He must have fallen asleep in the time it takes for Launchpad to get Gosalyn to bed, waking up as the dog joins him, tugging him into his arms, and he finds himself smiling as Launchpad curls around him protectively.

“Night, LP… thanks for keepin’ us safe…” he murmurs into his companions furry chest, snuggling more securely into his hold.

“Anything for you, Drake… goodnight,” Launchpad whispers back, and Drake falls back asleep easily.

A few hours later, Drake wakes up feeling cold, and he tries to cuddle up closer to Launchpad, only he can’t feel him next to him anymore. He opens his eyes to look around the room, confusion furrowing his brow when he sees Launchpad standing by the door, eyes wide, looking like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Launchpad? What’s wrong?” he yawns, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, and the werewolf wilts under his stare, ears and tail drooping, and he looks so horribly sad that Drake’s feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“I’m… I’m leaving…” he rumbles, and Drake’s heart drops. 

“What?” 

“You got hurt today!” Launchpad barks, hands curling into fists at his sides as he trembles with barely contained rage. “And it was all my fault, if I hadn’t come here then… then Graves wouldn’t have come and you and Gosalyn wouldn’t have had to deal with him.”

Launchpad uncurls his hands, staring down at his palms, “I don’t want you to get hurt again because of me, so just… just go back to bed and forget I was ever here. Tell Gosalyn I said goodbye, alright?” he says, turning to the door.

“Launchpad McRuff, if you don’t turn around right now and come here.” Drake says, stopping Launchpad in his tracks.

“Drake-”

“Don’t you ‘Drake’ me, come  _ here _ , Big Guy.” he sighs, patting the bed and giving Launchpad an earnest look.

A red blush comes over the werewolf’s cheeks, but he comes and sits next to Drake anyways, not meeting his eyes in favor fiddling with a loose thread on the comforter. Drake takes one of his hands in his own, marveling at the difference between them, not just in size but in everything, fur versus feathers, claws versus nothing, soft versus work roughened. 

He runs his thumb over his knuckles as he looks at their hands, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Today was not your fault, and if it weren’t for you I could have been hurt way worse. Since you’ve been here, Gosalyn has really lit up in a way I haven’t seen in a while. Things were always really boring here and she always wanted more to life than just this farm. You’ve certainly helped to bring some excitement into our lives, and without you, who else would take care of all the heavy lifting, hm?” He chuckles, looking up at LP to smile at him sweetly. 

Before he can lose whatever shred of confidence he’s gained to say all this he drives forward, wanting to get everything off his chest while he still has the nerve to do so. 

“Not to mention how happy you make  _ me _ …” he mumbles, looking back down at their hands as any and all eye contact would be too much for him right now.

The warm hand that cups his cheek has him looking up shyly, and he blushes at the wide eyed stare looking back at him, “What do you mean by that?” Launchpad asks, his tone urgent, and Drake’s heart pounds in his chest, unable to look away or hide his face thanks to Launchpad’s big hand holding him. 

“I mean, that I… you’re- you make me happy,” Drake stammers, and Launchpad’s tail beats against the bed as he scoots a little closer.

“Drake… what does that  _ mean _ ?” he whines, running his thumb over Drake’s cheek.

“I… I like you a lot.” 

Launchpad’s tail beats the bed even harder, “I like you, too.” he gasps, and Drake’s stomach twists, relief making the tension bleed from his shoulders, and he leans into Launchpad’s hold.

"But… I don't wanna hurt you," Launchpad whimpers, and Drake just grabs the hand cradling his cheek, smiling up at him, "You won't. I trust you." Launchpad stares at him for a moment, sliding his hand down from Drake’s cheek to his neck, where the feathers there are still broken and unkempt thanks to earlier. He traces his fingers over the damaged feathers gently, a sad look in his eyes, then lets go of him, and Drake raises a brow as he closes his eyes. 

Suddenly, he begins shifting, fur growing longer, snout elongating, teeth sharpening, and Drake takes it all in stride, grabbing his hand even as it grows in size. His claws extend, vicious looking, but the duck knows he would never use them to hurt him. As the shift ends, Launchpad opens his eyes, which are now bright yellow, and blinks at him when Drake just smiles.

“Even like this… you trust me?” he growls out, voice deeper, and Drake just smiles and nods, reaching up to grab him by the snout and bring him down closer, “All of you. Every last part.”

The meeting of their mouths has Drake’s heart leaping into his throat, and though it's a bit of an awkward adjustment, making sure to be careful of those big teeth, the kiss is everything he could have wanted and more. A big hand comes down to rest on the small of his back, tugging him closer, and Drake gasps as Launchpad turns his head, deepening the kiss.

He melts into Launchpad’s hold, wrapping his arms around the werewolf’s neck and pressing more insistently against him. Why he kept holding himself back from kissing the other man he’d never know, so he figured he needed to make up for every missed opportunity somehow, and the way Launchpad’s hands shake where they hold him lets him know he must be doing an alright job of it. 

Launchpad pulls away with a hitched breath, “Drake… I-” he begins, but Drake isn’t in the mood for talking, and before he can get too far away he tugs him back in for a second kiss, then a third, then a few more.


	7. I'll Find My Way Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things get fixed while others fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO this chapter is a bit of a major tone shift, and I want to give a quick warning based on some stuff that happens in it. 
> 
> This chapter gets a bit dark as there is implied character death (only for a moment), as well as some hypnotization stuff, (I'm sure you can connect the dots there) so if that makes you uncomfortable I might just skip the point in the chapter when it shifts to Launchpad's pov
> 
> Aside from all that, I hope you guys still somewhat enjoy this chapter as it was a struggle to write, and I want to keep up the momentum as we approach the grand finale.
> 
> Thanks to my amazing beta and friends! You guys keep me motivated!
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!

When morning comes, Launchpad and Drake are slow to wake up, a tangle of limbs and shy, sleepy smiles. Drake can’t help but notice just how _ right _ it feels to wake up next to Launchpad, and how he can imagine himself waking up next to him for many mornings to come.

“Hey there.” Drake hums, smiling up at Launchpad from where he’s lounging on top of his chest.

“Hey yourself,” the werewolf chuckles, voice still rough with sleep, and Drake nearly swoons.

“Just making sure… did everything last night actually happen? It wasn’t all a dream?” Launchpad asks, a warm blush painting his cheeks.

Drake moves up his chest to nuzzle into his neck, sighing contentedly, “Yup, it was all real. Is… is that a good thing?” he asks, sitting up and looking away nervously. They hadn’t really talked last night about what all the kissing meant for them, and while Drake wanted to stay hopeful that it meant they were now boyfriends, he didn’t want to assume anything. 

“Yeah! Yeah of course it’s a good thing!” Launchpad is quick to answer, grabbing Drake by the shoulders and turning him to look him in the eyes. “I uh- I just wanted to make sure and actually talk about it and… and about _ us _… uh…” he stammers, trailing off towards the end, looking increasingly flustered. Drake takes pity on him, leaning forward to peck him on the cheek, effectively shutting him up.

“Well, as for us,” Drake smiles, laying a hand on his chest, “I know what I want this to be, and if you want that, too, then I’m all for it.” he says, the werewolf’s tail wagging hard enough to thump against the bed.

Launchpad grabs him by the face and holds him gently, stroking his thumbs over his cheek feathers, “I want to be here with you, as your boyfriend. I… I want to stay, if- if you want me here, that is.”

Drake’s chest swells with an emotion he doesn’t have a name for quite just yet, and he surges forward into Launchpad’s arms, wrapping around him in a warm hug. “We’d be more than happy to have you here, of course you can stay…” he whispers into his neck, and Launchpad squeezes his arms around him tight. Pulling back from his embrace, Drake kisses Launchpad just because he can now, smiling when his new boyfriend kisses back just as eagerly.

Eventually they have to get out of bed, Drake begrudgingly leaving Launchpad’s arms to go get breakfast started. The dog trails after him, staying close by as he moved about the kitchen, helping him with making pancake batter. Gosalyn comes into the kitchen dragging her feet and rubbing at her eyes, muttering a tired ‘G’morning’ and Drake leans down to her level to pepper her face with kisses despite her whines.

Everything settles into quiet domestic bliss, Launchpad scooping Gosalyn up to have her help mix batter and instructing her on the best pancake making practices, cheering her on as she attempts her first pancake flipping (and cleaning up the mess when it inevitably goes wrong). Now eating breakfast, Drake can’t keep a smile off of his face, chatting about this or that, the drama of yesterday nothing but a distant memory.

Everyone at the table jumps when a car horn honks outside, immediately on edge and thinking the worst. Drake didn’t think Graves would come back so soon, and he feels sick to his stomach as he looks at Launchpad and Gosalyn with scared eyes. Both he and Launchpad tell Gosalyn to stay put as they creep to the door, and before he can look out the window to see who it is, a familiar voice comes from the other side.

“Hey Drake! It’s Fenton! Guess who finally got your truck all fixed up?”

Drake sighs, the tension easing from his shoulders, and he sags against the wall. Launchpad gives him a confused look, and Drake just gestures for him to go back to the kitchen, giving him a stern look when the werewolf glares at him, wanting to stay nearby. Launchpad goes with a huff after a quick staring contest, Drake waiting until he’s out of sight before coming to the door and opening it slowly.

Just like he said, standing in front of him is Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, a bright smile on his beak and Drake finds his good mood effectively tamped down. If his truck was here, then that meant…

“Drake! So good to see you!” Fenton crows, grabbing his hand for a vigorous shake, and Drake’s hand comes away covered in some kind of mechanical grease.

“Hey there, Fenton…” he says as he wipes his hand off on his overalls, “It’s been a while, huh?” his tone slightly accusatory, and Fenton flinches, smile turning sheepish.

“Sorry about the long wait for the truck, that caravan of semis that comes to town every year with the fair needed a lot of repairs. Gandra and I were super busy,” he explains, and Drake raises a brow at him. 

“I still don’t see why you needed to fix it anyways, I had everything completely under control and could have fixed it all on my own.” he sniffs, crossing his arms, and Fenton gives him an unimpressed look.

“You could have replaced your truck’s entire suspension system? All on your own?” Fenton asks, and Drake pouts, looking away, “How hard could it be? It’s like replacing a battery or something right?” he shrugs, and laughter bursts from Fenton’s beak, making Drake’s cheeks burn. 

Fenton claps a hand on his shoulder, and he looks at the offending appendage with disdain, “You’re a funny guy, Drake. Tell Gosalyn I said hello, alright?” he chuckles, tossing the keys to his truck over his shoulder as he turns to leave, and he watches him get into his tow truck and drive off.

Seeing his truck in the dirt driveway makes his chest tight, and as he steps outside to get a better look at it he wraps his arms around himself, feeling cold for other reasons besides the chilly morning air.

Drake turns when he hears a rapping on the front window, a smile tugging at the corner of his beak as Launchpad peers out at him, and he waves a hand for him to come over. Launchpad steps outside, glancing between Drake and the truck, tail wagging slowly. The excitement he’s feeling over getting to go home is clear in his eyes, and Drake frowns.

“It’s… it’s all fixed?” Launchpad asks, sounding awestruck as he places a hand on the hood of the truck.

“Yup, looks like the ol’ Thunderquack still has some life in her yet.” Drake sighs, dread leaking into his voice, but before he can feel sorry for himself because his boyfriend is already leaving him, he hears a quiet sniffle. He looks up at Launchpad, shocked to see tears dripping down his face freely, and he moves closer to the other man, resting a hand on his arm, “Launchpad?”

“I get to see my family again…” he whispers shakily, and Drake’s heart breaks at how his voice cracks, how his shoulders tremble with quiet sobs. The farmer pulls Launchpad into his arms, clenching his eyes shut tight during the warm embrace, feeling tears of his own threaten to fall. He pushes aside his own fears and insecurities for once in his life, forgetting his selfish desire to keep Launchpad here with him. He had a family to go back to, a life completely separate from his own, and it was stupid of him to believe Launchpad would choose him over that.

Launchpad lets go of him, and he quickly wipes at his eyes, stepping back from the other man.

“Yeah, yeah you do, LP.” he clears his throat, unable to look him in the eyes. “Let me just tell Gosalyn to get ready for the drive and-”

“No.”

Drake’s head snaps up to meet Launchpad’s serious gaze, and his eyes narrow in turn, “What do you mean ‘No’?” he scoffs, eyes widening when the werewolf closes the distance between them, one hand coming to rest on his hip and the other cradling his cheek.

“I mean, I’m not taking you with me if it means you could get hurt.” he murmurs, leaning ever closer to him, and Drake wants to protest being distracted from their serious conversation in this way, but then Launchpad’s mouth is on his and it’s hard to think of much else. 

His eyelids flutter open when they separate, but Launchpad still holds him close, able to feel his breath on his beak as he speaks. 

“I don’t know what’s going to be waiting for me when I get home, and I refuse to let you get hurt again.” he grumbles, his hand sliding down from his cheek to caress his bruised neck, and he even dips low to press a chaste kiss there, stealing Drake’s breath and making his thoughts stop for a second.

Then he’s suddenly too far away, and the duck reaches for him, Launchpad catching his hands and kissing them both before kneeling in front of Drake. It reminds him of the way he asked to go howling the other night, and his eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I have to do this. I have to make sure they know I’m alright and what’s coming soon.” he says insistently, “Drake, I don’t want to have to leave either but… but you have to understand why I have to go.”

Drake nods begrudgingly, hot tears leaking from his eyes unbidden, and he wipes at them furiously, “I know! I know you have to do this, just- just tell me you’ll come back…”

Launchpad opens his mouth to answer then thinks better of it, struggling to find the right words to say until he gets an idea. He shrugs off his jacket quickly, wrapping it around Drake’s shoulders nice and snug.

“I’ll be back. Gotta make sure I get my jacket back, right?” he says with a sad smile, and Drake laughs wetly, “Just for the jacket?” he teases, tears having finally stopped, and Launchpad wipes a few away with a big thumb.

“No, not just for the jacket. It’s just extra motivation.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Are you leaving?”

Both startle at Gosalyn’s sudden presence by their side, and Launchpad winces when he sees the sadness in her eyes.

“Well… yes, Little Lady, but I’ll be back!” he reassures her, opening his arms so Gosalyn can come in for a hug, pulling Drake into it as well and holding them both tight.

“Promise?” Gosalyn mumbles into his chest, and Launchpad smiles, “Promise, Gosaroonie.”

“Pinky promise?” she pulls back to fix him with a steely glare, and the werewolf rests a hand over his heart, holding the other out with pinky up, “Pinky promise.”

Gosalyn connects their pinkies then falls back into Launchpad’s arms, Drake following her lead, trying to keep from crying once again, telling himself that Launchpad _ would _come back.

They set about getting Launchpad ready for the drive home, and while Gosalyn takes the werewolf around to say goodbye to all the animals, Drake writes down directions for how to get to Duckburg, as well as his own address and phone number so Launchpad would be able to find him come time for him to return. 

He sets the paper inside the truck then waits for Gosalyn and Launchpad to get finished, tapping his foot impatiently as he does so. When they finally appear, Gosalyn looking a little teary eyed while the dog holds her hand and speaks to her quietly, it hits Drake that Launchpad is actually leaving, and he wishes they had more time together.

“And you’re absolutely _ sure _you have to go? I think Henrietta is gonna miss you too much, you should stay.” Drake catches the tail end of their conversation and smiles, glad to know he wasn’t the only one wishing Launchpad could stay just a little longer.

Launchpad chuckles, ruffling Gosalyn’s hair playfully, “I think Henrietta will be just fine without me, besides, I already told you, I’ll be back, ok?” he says, and Gosalyn pouts up at him, “You better, we pinky promised and everything!”

Sensing his eyes on him, Launchpad’s gaze meets his own, the fond smile he gives him making Drake fall even harder, and as soon as the other man gets close enough, he leans up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. They stare at one another for what feels like an eternity, Drake holding back all the things he wishes he were brave enough to say, then they’re kissing, and Drake hopes against all hope that it’s not their last. Launchpad holds him securely in his arms, lifting him up off the ground so Drake feels like he’s floating, and when they pull away he presses their foreheads together.

“You’re coming back to me, right?”

“I will. As soon as all this is over, I’ll be here.”

Drake nods, some of the fear in his heart easing at how sincerely Launchpad says it, how sure he sounds. He melts into Launchpad’s hold, hugging him tight, “Don’t make us wait too long.”

Drake and Gosalyn watch Launchpad drive off with tearfilled eyes, waving sadly until he disappears down the country road that connects their farm to the rest of civilization, and Drake tries his best to keep himself together, hugging Launchpad’s jacket closer to himself. Gosalyn leans against him and he wraps an arm around her, sighing once he eventually turns them away from the road and guides them both back to the house. Back inside, Drake immediately registers how much quieter everything is without the werewolf there, and he slumps himself into the couch, Gosalyn joining him and laying across his lap.

“Are you and Launchpad going to get married?”

Drake had been expecting some kind of question about the kiss he and Launchpad had shared in front of her, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that, and he sputters and stammers through his answer while his face burns.

\---

Launchpad holds the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip as he drives, gritting his teeth at every stop light that keeps him from the McDuck manor. He was so close now, knowing by heart that he only needed to take one more left turn then a right before he got back to his family. The drive up Killmotor Hill seems to take forever, and he drives through the front gate without even questioning why it was already open, parking haphazardly once he gets to the mansion. 

Rushing to the front door, he goes to knock, and the door pushes open the second he touches it. Beakley always made sure the door was shut and locked, and warning bells begin going off in Launchpad’s head. He takes a quick sniff of the air, and _ something _is off, but he can’t place it, stepping inside carefully.

“Mr. McDee? Kids? Hellooo, anyone home?” he calls out, checking every room he passes until a splitting headache makes him double over with a groan, clutching at his head.

“What the…” he hisses, stumbling into the nearest room, and he freezes as an overwhelmingly acrid, metallic scent fills his nostrils. Swallowing dryly, his blurry vision clears, and he gasps at the sight that greets him. Laying strewn about the room in unnatural poses are his family, dark red blood staining their clothes and the floor. His knees wobble, and he collapses to the floor, crawling forward on shaky hands towards a too still Dewey, gathering the small duckling up into his hands.

“Dewey… Lil’ buddy?” he whispers, and nausea builds in his stomach when he sees the lifeless movements of his limbs, trembling as he leans to to press an ear to his chest, finding nothing, no heartbeat, no breath.

“No… no this can’t be right… this isn’t… no, no!” he cries, scrambling around the room to the other ducklings and Scrooge, all of them quiet and unmoving. Tears cloud his vision, and he sobs after he’s checked all of them, all with the same result.

“Launchpad…”

The dog’s eyes go wide, and he turns towards the voice slowly, dread turning his stomach. Drake is laying there, throat bruised a mottled purple, and it looks like he’s hardly breathing. It doesn’t even register in his brain that there's no way Drake should even be there right now, already by his side, holding his hand and running his fingers through his hair.

“Drake I- Drake what happened- how did you-”

“You were too late.”

His hand goes still in the duck’s hair, and his ears pin back when Drake’s eyes close, the rise and fall of his chest slowing to a standstill.

“Drake? Drake, please… please don’t go… no- I- I’m sorry…” Launchpad pulls Drake to his chest, curling around him as he cries, and a terribly sad howl erupts from his throat.

A dark shadow frowns from the corner, watching a distraught Launchpad cling to empty air, not even putting up a fight as his brothers come into the room with heavy chains and muzzle, pulling him out of the room while he howls mournfully the whole way.

“I have to say I’m impressed Black Arts,” his mother praises him, but for once it makes him feel sick to his stomach. “What’d you even do to him?” she asks.

“I made him see what he feared most.” he sighs, stopping the flow of magic between him and Launchpad. The damage had been done already, he didn’t need to give him any more illusions.

\---

Drake tries his best to focus on work the rest of the day. There were a lot of things that needed to be done on a farm every day, and he couldn’t mope around in the house forever. Launchpad’s jacket gives him some comfort, a warm weight on his shoulders, and he doesn’t take it off the rest of the day, even curling up with it when night falls and it’s time for bed. He can’t sleep, however, too used to Launchpad’s warmth already, and he tosses and turns fitfully.

Gosalyn comes into his room at some point during the night, and he lets her snuggle close, draping the jacket over the both of them.

“You miss him, too, huh?” he hums, playing with her curly locks idly.

“Yeah… he told really good bedtime stories,” Gosalyn buries her face further into his chest, when she perks up abruptly, “Wait, do you hear that?” she asks, sitting up and turning her ear towards the front of the house.

Drake sits up as well, tilting his head curiously but listening close, and his heart jumps into his throat when he hears the crunch of gravel outside, like car tires in the driveway, and he can even hear the old rumble of his truck’s engine. He smiles so hard his face hurts, putting on Launchpad’s jacket as he untangles himself from bed and bolts outside.

Sure enough, his truck is outside, and he whoops with joy, laughing and making his way down the porch steps to meet Launchpad.

“I didn’t think you were going to be back so soon! You have no idea how much we-” Drake’s rambling is cut off as the truck door opens, and a figure not at all like Launchpad’s steps out, too short and stocky, and another, much bigger, figure comes out of the other side of the truck. They step ever closer to him, two mean looking dogs, and Drake remembers Launchpad’s vague description of the Beagle Boy pack, stepping back warily.

“You must be Drake Mallard.”


	8. Give Me Mercy No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd first like to apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out, I was super busy with college stuff!!! We're getting so close now to the end, hope you guys are excited!
> 
> Thank you to my beta Jazz for helping me out last minute, I really appreciate it! And thank you to everyone in the server for being patient, even if some of you (cough Mud cough) weren't exactly that patient skjdnc
> 
> Really hope you enjoy! And thank you for sticking through my first multi-chapter fic with me! It's been a wild ride and I'm super proud of this work so far!
> 
> Comments and Kudos much appreciated!

Drake had only been knocked completely unconscious once in his life.

It just so happened to coincide with the first (and hopefully last) time he broke a bone. He had been trying to fix the roof of the barn all on his own, relying on a wobbly ladder and sheer grit. The details are a bit fuzzy, as all he remembers is his foot slipping on one of the steps and his rapid journey down to the unforgiving ground. When he woke up, he was in an ambulance with a freshly broken leg, a distraught Gosalyn, and a new hatred for ladders.

He tried his hardest to avoid heights from that day on, but of course with his luck, he would find himself waking up from getting knocked out for the second time in his life regardless.

The first thing that he is immediately aware of is that his head feels like it’d been pounded in with a hammer, and he reaches up to rub at his forehead, only to find that he can’t. His eyes crack open slowly, but it's too dark to see anything, and he groans at the ache in his arms thanks to them being tied behind his back.

“You’re awake!”

Gosalyn’s voice whisper shouts next to him, and he feels relief for only a moment until he realizes he has no idea where he is, he’s tied up and hurt, and now his daughter is there with him.

“Gos-”

“Shh!”

A small hand closes around his beak, and he’s about to protest when he hears the sound of car doors closing. Muffled voices surround what he assumes to be his truck, as his foggy mind begins to come up to speed on what’s going on. The Beagle Boys showing up at his house must mean something happened to Launchpad, and it can’t have been good.

“Ugh… is that idiot still cryin’?” he catches one voice say, and another voice laughs cruelly.

“Isn’t it great? Black Arts got ‘im so good!” they cackled, and Drake wishes he could convince himself they were talking about someone else, but he wasn’t feeling all that optimistic right now, what with the being tied up and whatnot.

“What do we do with ‘ol country boy here?” the first voice says, and Drake pouts, Gosalyn pulling her hand back as he mouths ‘Country boy?’ to himself.

“Ma has something planned, you’ll see. Said she’s never seen anybody howl over someone else like that, wants to see what's so special about ‘im and maybe torture our little friend a little more.” the voice that laughed before sounds much too pleased about this information, Drake’s stomach twisting in knots.

“Is that him?” a new voice joins the party.

“Oh hey Black Arts! Was jus’ talkin’ about you! Yup, that’s him, why?” 

“Ma uh- told me to take him in.” ‘Black Arts’ (as if that was a real name) stammers, and he sounds nervous for some reason.

“You sure? Thought she woulda let you have a break after all that magic mumbo jumbo you did?” 

Of course there was magic involved in all this mess now, may as well with how weird the past week has been, Drake thinks to himself, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yeah, yeah, I got this. You guys head on in, alright?”

There’s a moment of tense silence until Drake can hear footsteps getting farther away, and both he and the mysterious Black Arts take a breath of relief.

Drake has to shut his eyes when the sheet hiding Gosalyn and he is suddenly tugged off, flinching at the blinding light of the almost full moon from her spot in the night sky. Once his vision adjusts, he squints up at who has to be the poster boy for edgy scene kids everywhere. Gosalyn quickly scrambles to hide behind him, and he struggles to get sitting up to better shield her.

“They didn’t say anything about a kid…” Black Arts grumbles under his breath, brow furrowing and hands clenching at his sides. 

“What do you want with us?! We didn’t do anything to you people!” Drake spits, tugging desperately at the ropes holding his hands when he feels Gosalyn’s fingers working at his bonds and he goes still.

“Listen I- I know you have no reason to trust me, and… and I did something really awful to your friend but… I’m- I want to help.” the grey furred dog twirls a lock of hair nervously as he speaks, unable to meet Drake’s eyes.

The duck glares at the other man, “The only way you could help us is if you’d walk away and let us leave.”

“I know where they’re keeping Launchpad.”

Gosalyn finishes untying his hands right at that moment and he leaps forward to grab Black Arts by the front of his shirt, frantic and desperate.

“Take us to him.  _ Now. _ ” 

Drake is suddenly floating then, surrounded by a dark purple aura, and Black Arts’ eyes glow with an eerie violet light. He squawks as he’s pushed back by an unseen force, landing back in the bed of his truck, then the aura disappears as quickly as it came.

“Please never do that again…” Black Arts huffs, readjusting his wrinkled shirt and fixing his cape, which Drake just noticed. This guy sure had a penchant for dramatics, but the cape  _ did  _ look cool.

“Was that magic? Keen gear…” Gosalyn whispers in awe, and Black Arts seemingly remembers her existence, shrinking back and looking away, grabbing at his hair once again in what Drake has determined is a nervous tick.

“Yeah uh, about that… I’m going to need to cast an illusory spell on you two to sneak you in. No one will be able to see you, but you’ll need to stick close to me, alright?” he explains, and Drake wants to say no, doesn’t know if he can trust him quite yet, but they’ve got no one else in their corner, and Launchpad needed them.

“Fine... just don’t go turning me into some caped weirdo like you.”

“Can you crawl a little slower?”

“Can you quiet down before you compromise our mission?!”

“Mission?”

“The fate of the manor is in our hands!”

“Yeah, but we haven’t been crawling around the vents our whole lives, slow down a little?”

Webby finally slows her pace, peeking over her shoulder at Dewey, who looks exhausted, and she can’t see Huey or Louie behind him but she guesses they look just as tired. They’ve been wandering around the vents for a few hours now, trying to find exactly where they’re holding Donald, Scrooge, and her grandma. They were lucky enough to have been at Funso’s, working hard to try and figure out where Launchpad could be since he went missing almost two weeks ago, when everything went down. 

When they came home to find the manor crawling with Beagle Boys prowling the premises, it was only thanks to Webby’s years of experience knowing all the best hiding places in the manor that they were able to sneak in undetected. But they’ve had no luck finding their family since, and Webby doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s starting to get worried.

“I’m sorry guys… I just want to-”

A horrible howling sound interrupts her just then, and she claps her hands over her ears as it reverberates throughout the vents. Dewey’s expression drops, and Webby wishes she could give him a hug just then. Launchpad’s howling had been going on intermittently for the past hour or two, and she’s never heard him sound so sad before, her mind betraying her and making her imagine all the horrible things that could have happened to make him  _ wail  _ like that. 

After not hearing from their friend in what felt like forever, it was nice to know he was alive at the very least, but Webby thinks she’d much rather keep believing he was missing than know he was in pain somewhere they couldn’t reach. 

Dewey’s face hardens into a determined scowl, and he turns around clumsily to look at his brothers.

“We’ve gotta keep going, I think we’re getting closer to Launchpad at least. If we can find him, we can figure out what’s going on here.” he urges them, and they both nod in sync. Satisfied he’s got them motivated to press on, he turns back around to face Webby.

“Let’s go find ourselves a werewolf.”

Black Arts tries his best to act casual as he walks through the manor, also having to keep his concentration so the spell keeping Drake and Gosalyn concealed doesn’t drop. Drake is clutching a pitchfork he grabbed from the back of his truck like a lifeline, having a near panic attack every time one of his brothers walk past. The spell works like a charm though, and everybody remains blissfully unaware of the two ducks walking just next to him. 

Launchpad’s broken howls only get louder the closer they get to the room where he’s being held, and when he looks at Drake, there are tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

“What did you do to him?” he whispers, and Black Arts’ ears pin back, his words hitting him like a blow to the head.

“I-”

“Black Arts!”

A chill runs down the magician’s spine, and he turns slowly to see his Ma coming out of the room Scrooge and his nephew are being kept in, and she looks  _ mad _ . He instinctively shrinks back in fear, all too used to her fits of rage, and her being shifted only adds to the dread coursing through his veins. She stalks over to him, nearly walking on all fours, claws scraping at the floor.

“The bastard won’t tell me where the deed to Duckburg is. I want you to use whatever it was you did to the big idiot on him,” she says, jutting a thumb over her shoulder and towards the door, “I  _ need  _ to find out where that stupid-”

She pauses then, lifting her nose to the air and taking a deep sniff, her fur standing on end. Black Arts feels frozen when she comes closer, sniffing at the air and then finally at him, right where Drake grabbed him by the shirt earlier, her eyes narrowing.

“You smell like duck…” she growls, and the dog thinks his heart stops beating. Drake puts himself between Gosalyn and the terrifying werewolf, her imposing figure making his blood run cold.

Before Black Arts can even begin to stutter through an attempted reply, Ma lets out a great sneeze, sniffling and rubbing at her nose, “Whole damn place smells like duck…”

“So are you gonna take care of ‘im?” Ma asks, and Black Arts nods jerkily, hoping it’ll get her off of his back.

“Well then get to it! We’re getting that deed… whatever it takes.” She says with a sinister air of finality.

“What are you doing just standing there?! GO!” she snarls, baring her teeth at him and he quickly scrambles to get away from her, hoping Drake and Gosalyn were smart enough to follow. Opening the door, he waits until his invisible companions bolt inside before shutting it behind him with a breath of relief. 

“That was a close one.” he sighs, leaning against the door and closing his eyes to try and calm his racing heart, when the sound of Drake’s gasp catches his attention. Black Arts looks up and grimaces at the sight that greets him; Scrooge McDuck roped to the wall, several ugly bruises littering his body, a bloody scratch raking down one of his arms. Donald Duck is chained to the other wall, glaring at him and fuming silently as the rope around his beak keeps him from speaking.

A part of him is conflicted, knowing that if he helps them that he’ll be betraying his family, and as much as he knows that what they’re doing is wrong, they’re the only family he has. He takes a hesitant step forward while Drake runs to the older man, asking if he was alright, but the concealing spell is still on him so he doesn’t react.

“We have to help him! Both of them... Black Arts,  _ please _ .” Drake pleads, and the dog opens his mouth to speak but isn’t quite sure what to say. A new scent suddenly fills the air, and he sniffs curiously, raising a brow when his nose tells him the smell is coming from the ventilation grate in the ceiling.

“What the-”

“HIIIYA!”

\---

Beakley supposes there are worse ways for her night to be going, but being handcuffed in a cage and having to listen to Launchpad cry and whine across from her is certainly not high on her list of ‘ways to spend an evening at home’. Ever since they’d brought the crying man in the room she’d tried to call out to him, thankful that the Beagle Boys had not thought to put a muzzle on her, but so far he’s ignored all her attempts to talk.

After his mysterious disappearance a couple of weeks ago, she had been trying her hardest to find him, contacting SHUSH and anyone else she could think of who might have the slightest clue to where he could have gone. Now, with the Beagle Boys taking over and Launchpad just happening to reappear, she knows they must have had something to do with it, and as soon as she gets out of this cage there’s going to be hell to pay.

“Launchpad, please, talk to me...” she tries one more time to get him to speak, leaning against the bars in an attempt to get closer to the other man.

He’s slumped over on the floor, muzzled and chained to the wall by a heavy metal collar. Random Beagle Boys had come in periodically to try and get him to shut up whenever he was howling, and blood leaks from various scratches and bites, but he doesn’t seem to care. This is one of the few times he’s been silent, just laying there despondently in a pitiful display, and Beakley wants nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything is going to be alright.

Launchpad actually looks up at her for once, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, and Beakley frowns at just how  _ defeated  _ he looks. 

“They’re gone…” he rasps, muffled thanks to the muzzle, and a new bout of sobs make him curl up into a ball, turning his back to her.

Her brow furrows in confusion, and fear pulls at her heart, “Launchpad, dear, what does that  _ mean _ ?” she asks, trying to keep him talking, but his back remains turned as he begins howling mournfully once again, and she curses and slides to the floor with a sigh, gritting her teeth in frustration. 

Whatever Launchpad saw, it must have been truly terrible to make him react in this way, and her heart aches for her friend.

\---

Drake could only describe the thing that tackles Black Arts to the floor as a blur of pink, his beak falling open when he realizes its a  _ child _ , and then there are three more children falling from the ceiling, except these ones are identical and color coded.

“Who the blazes are you? Where did you even come from?” he yelps at the sudden voice behind him, turning to face Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world. The fact that he could see him now let Drake know that whatever magic Black Arts was doing was no longer working, probably because he was currently getting ganged up on by little kids.

“Hey! Stop! I’m on your side!” Black Arts cries, covering his face while four angry children kick and punch at him, and he’s ashamed to admit that a few of those punches actually hurt quite a bit.

“That’s what they always say!” the pink one yells, and Drake runs over to try and get them to stop, grabbing the child with the red shirt and holding him up as he swings his arms wildly with his eyes closed.

“He actually is on our side! Well at least I think so,” Drake shrugs, and the kids all eventually back off, leaving the dog cowering on the floor.

“Wait, who are you?” asks the green triplet, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, looking bored.

“That’s what I asked!” Scrooge yells from across the room, and Gosalyn comes over to him with wide, starry eyes.

“Keen Gear! You’re Scrooge McDuck!” she chirps, and the older duck manages a weak smile. “That’s me name, lass. Now er… think you could help an old man out?” Gosalyn nods excitedly, getting to work untying him. Drake sets down the red triplet, and he dusts himself off as he does so, scowling up at him when he looks up and notices the muzzled duck on the wall and gasps.

“Uncle Donald!” he yells, and the other color coded children come to his aid, untying the rope around his beak and looking for anything to undo his chains.

“So, wannae tell us just who you are? And why you’re wearing my chauffeur’s jacket?” Scrooge limps over, supported by Gosalyn at his side. Drake blushes when he remembers the warm jacket, tugging it a little tighter around himself nervously.

“I’m uh, a friend of Launchpad’s…” he says, clearing his throat, and Gosalyn gives him an unimpressed look.

“They’re gonna get married.” she adds, and Drake goes beet red, doing a very good impression of a fish out of water with the way he opens and closes his beak.

The sound of chains falling distracts them from embarrassing Drake any further, and he looks over to see the other duck that was being held captive here hugging the four children who came from the ceiling, and Scrooge hobbles away from Gosalyn’s hold to join the embrace. Black Arts sudden presence at his side nearly makes him jump, and he glares at the goth dog until he sees the lost expression on his face, his ears drooping low.

“Families actually… hug each other?” he says softly, and Drake frowns, hesitating for a second before putting a hand on his arm and patting it, and this time, Black Arts doesn’t push him away.

Finally all reunited, the McDuck clan turns to face Drake, and he can feel himself sweating as they all approach, everyone eyeing the jacket suspiciously.

“Launchpad’s friend, huh? Well just so you know, I’m his  _ best  _ friend so don’t get any ideas.” the blue triplet warns him, narrowing his eyes in a not-so-intimidating stare.

“We didn’t know Launchpad had friends outside of the manor,” says Scrooge, “Have you a name, lad?”

“Oh right- my name, uh, call me Drake Mallard. And this is my daughter, Gosalyn.” he grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her close, smiling when she strikes a pose.

He gets properly introduced to all of the ducks standing in front of him, trying to remember names, especially the triplets, who all looked the same to him aside from their shirt colors.

“What are you even doing here? Are you the reason why Launchpad’s been MIA for the past week or so?” Donald asks, or at least that’s what Drake thinks he says, his voice taking some getting used to.

“Well it’s a pretty long story, but, I’ll give you the shortened version.” Drake sighs, and he explains the whirlwind that’s been his life since Launchpad crashed his way into it, how he only ended up there because of the Beagle Boys. He also explains why Launchpad couldn’t get here until today, and how he himself ended up there, when he remembers something.

“Gosalyn… Black Arts said the people who took me didn’t say anything about a kid, like they only knew they took me and not you.” He turns his daughter to face him, and she looks away quickly.

“About that… I may have jumped into the back of a moving truck when I saw them taking you away…” she says, offering a strained smile as apology.

“Gosalyn Mallard, you are  _ so  _ grounded when we get home.”

“Before any grounding can happen,” Donald speaks up, giving the triplets a look that said they’d be having the same conversation later, “We’ve gotta take our home back. Will you help us?” he asks, and Drake nods, picking his pitchfork up from where he dropped it earlier.

“Anything for Launchpad and his family.”

Black Arts clears his throat then, stepping forward while fiddling with his thumbs, “I’ll help, too, as best I can.”

Scrooge considers him for a moment, the dog withering under his sharp gaze, then tilts his head in a short nod, “Thank you lad.”

“I don’t think my invisibility spell can work on so many people, though. We’ll need to sneak into the room where Launchpad is being held.” he says, “It’s only the third door on the left down the hall, so I’ll keep a lookout while you guys run in two by two.”

Everyone gives each other a determined look, and Drake’s heart races at the thought of getting to see Launchpad again. As they all prepare themselves to leave the room, Donald comes and pulls Drake to the side while Gosalyn chats animatedly with some of the other kids.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s best if you and I run in together, not you and your daughter.” Donald explains, and Drake raises a brow in confusion, “It’s just… we don’t know what kind of condition Launchpad is in. I don’t want Gosalyn to have to see him if he’s… in bad shape.”

Any good feelings Drake might have been having quickly vanish, and his brain brings back those memories of Launchpad bleeding out in his barn, beaten and on the verge of death.  _ If  _ he looked a lot like that right now, it was probably best Gosalyn don’t see him right away.

“You’re right… thanks, Donald.” he says, and the duck claps him on the shoulder, shaking him gently. “No problem, us dads have got to stick together.”

Drake gives him a shy smile when Black Arts calls everyone over, telling them it was time.

“Ready, Dad?” Gosalyn asks, coming up to him with a smile, and he crouches down to get on her level.

“Actually, sweetheart, I’m gonna go with Donald, alright?” she makes a face at him, pouting, “We just want to make sure the room is safe! We don’t know who could be waiting for us in there.” 

Gosalyn frowns for a little bit before shrugging, “Yeah, alright… Who do I go with, though?”

Webby is quick to approach and grab Gosalyn’s hand, smiling wide and bright, “You can come with us!” she says, then pulls her over to join the triplets, and she looks a little surprised but smiles nonetheless. Gosalyn glances over her shoulder at him, a little unsure, and he gives her a big thumbs up.

“Ready?” Black Arts stands in front of the door, glancing between Drake and Donald, and they both nod.

The magician takes a deep breath then gestures for everyone to quiet down, pressing his ear to the door and closing his eyes. Drake’s breath catches in his throat in anticipation, clutching his pitchfork tight to keep his hands from shaking. Black Arts opens his eyes then and pushes the door open slowly, peering up and down the hall, ears perked for the slightest sound. 

He looks to the two ducks and they know it's time, the second he opens the door wide they’re bolting out and down the hallway. Drake counts the doors they pass like seconds until they get to door number three, and Donald shoves the door open and grabs Drake by Launchpad’s jacket, tugging him in.

Taking a second to catch his breath, Drake thinks his heart might explode from how fast its racing while Donald runs to a cage in the corner of the room holding an older looking woman. Drake hears a strangled gasp and the jingle of chains, looking up to see Launchpad, and his pitchfork goes clattering to the ground, hands coming up to cover his beak. 

Launchpad looks  _ terrified _ , huddled against the wall he’s chained to and staring at Drake as if he’s seen a ghost, tears streaming down his face through blood soaked fur.

“No… no it- you’re not… this isn’t-” the dog’s chest heaves with quickened breaths, and he backs away as far as he can go while Drake steps closer.

“Launchpad… Big Guy, what did they do to you?” Drake whispers, and Launchpad shudders at the sound of his voice.

“Drake… but you-” he stops suddenly and squeezes his eyes shut, bringing those big hands up to tangle his fingers in his orange hair.

“It’s all just in my head! Stop it!” he whimpers, Drake’s brow furrowing in confusion. 

“What? Launchpad it’s me, I’m right here!” the duck says desperately, finally close enough to touch him, and he grabs him by the snout, holding his face gently. Launchpad’s green eyes open to stare at him incredulously, shaking his head as he takes him in.

“No you’re- you’re  _ dead _ …” he sobs, and Drake doesn’t really know what to say to that, but it clicks in his head just what Black Arts might have done to his boyfriend. He tries to think of anything to get Launchpad to realize he’s real, and settles for leaning in and pressing their mouths together in a slow kiss, hoping it would snap him out of it.

Launchpad goes still in his hold, not kissing back, and Drake presses his beak against his more insistently, arms slipping around his neck. The dog lets go of his hair, letting his trembling hands come to settle on his waist, squeezing his fingers tight where they hold him. Then he’s melting into Drake, wrapping his big arms around his middle and pulling him against his chest, one hand coming up to cup Drake’s cheek as he tilts his head, deepening their kiss.

They both pull away breathless, smiling wide, and Drake’s hands come up to stroke over Launchpad’s face, “There’s my Big Guy…”

“You’re alive!” Launchpad whines, peppering Drake’s face with kisses and making him giggle.

“And you’re hurt!” Drake pouts, pushing on Launchpad’s chest to get a better look at the cuts and bruises that litter his body.

“Who cares! You’re alive!” he laughs, pressing his face into Drake’s neck.

“I care you big dummy!” the duck squawks, blushing bright red and squirming away from his wet, ticklish nose.

“I love you…”

Drake freezes at the words mumbled into his feathers, eyes wide, heart ready to beat out of his chest. As much as he wants to reply to that, a warm weight comes crashing into the both of them, and they go falling to the ground in a heap.

“Launchpad!”

“Gosaroonie!”

Gosalyn joins their embrace, worming her way between them to lean against Launchpad’s broad chest, holding both of them tight, and everything fades away for a few seconds. Until the rest of Launchpad’s family joins them, and Drake gets squished between Donald and Gosalyn in a warm hug.

“You’re all alright… I thought…” Launchpad’s voice shakes as he pulls away from their group hug, wiping at his eyes. A purple aura surrounds the collar keeping Launchpad chained to the wall, and it splits it in half and falls to the floor with a clang, Launchpad rubbing a hand over his now free neck and looking around in confusion.

“That would be my fault.” Black Arts is standing by the door, looking down at his feet, and a deep, rumbling growl emanates from Launchpad’s chest. He’s shifting now, and Drake watches in awe as some of his wounds close up as he does so, wondering if the almost full moon was to blame.

Launchpad stands and moves to block his family from Black Arts view, hands clenched into fists at his sides, “You… what did you do to me?” 

“I-I’m sorry... my magic made you see those things,” Black Arts whimpers, tugging at his hair once again, tears dripping down his face.

“I thought my family was  _ gone  _ because of you,” the werewolf spits, his fur standing on end, and Drake comes to his side and grabs his arm.

“I know it doesn’t excuse what he did to you, or what his family has done here today, but he’s here to help.” Drake soothes, and Launchpad looks down at him with a frown.

“Oh is he now?”

The familiar voice makes Drake’s blood run cold, turning to find Ma Beagle standing at the door, Black Arts beating a hasty retreat to join their group, and her lip curls in a snarl.

“Really now, Black Arts? Betraying your family for the  _ McDucks _ ? I thought we were over your rebellious phase…” she scoffs, stepping further into the room, allowing a flood of Beagle Boy werewolves to stream in after her. Black Arts remains frozen, unable to speak, and rage builds in Drake’s chest.

“Some family you guys are! You’re just using your sons for your own gain!” Drake yells, and the matriarch sets her sights on him, ears flattening against her head as she growls. 

She begins stalking along one side of the room, her sons following her, “What do you know, farm boy?!” she snaps, pacing back and forth, “I do what I want with my family and they all listen! Isn’t that right boys?” she calls over her shoulder, getting an unenthusiastic round of ‘Yeah’s’ in reply.

“You- you don’t need to do what she says!” Black Arts pipes up, having found his voice, and Ma Beagle snaps her head to glare at him.

“Quiet now! If you don’t get back over here,  _ right now  _ Black Arts.” Ma barks, and the magician takes another step back.

“Fine then… just know this is gonna hurt you a lot more than it’s gonna hurt me. BOYS, get ‘em!”

Everything descends into a blur of chaos as Beagle Boys rush toward them, and Launchpad lets out a bone chilling howl before charging right at them. Remembering his pitchfork, Drake spots it by the door and starts to bolt for it when a shadowy figure with a horned skull for a head emerges from the floor beneath it, picking it up and dropping it into his hands.

“How nice of you to show, Duckworth!” Scrooge yells, currently fending off a scrawny Beagle Boy with his cane. The figure seems to shrug before flying toward a group of werewolves who all turn tail and run away yelping. Launchpad tears through a line of Beagle Boys, swiping his claws left and right on his way to Ma Beagle, who stands at the back of the room just watching with a wicked smile.

“Drake! Watch out!” Black Arts calls from where he’s floating in the air, hands glowing with purple magic, and Drake turns to find a massive Beagle Boy barreling towards him. He has just enough time to hold his pitchfork up as they leap on top of him, his teeth closing around the wood of the handle instead of his head, and he pushes back against the weight of the much bigger man as best he can. His feet kick uselessly against their chest, and his arms shake with the effort of keeping him at bay, gnashing teeth just inches from his face, spraying slobber everywhere.

“Get! OFF!”

The werewolf is suddenly being pulled back by the ears, Gosalyn holding on for dear life from where she sits on his shoulders, and they howl in pain with every sharp tug. They reel back from Gosalyn’s pulling, finally lifting his weight off of Drake, and before the Beagle Boy can reach back and grab his daughter, he swipes the pitchfork across his face. He yelps in pain, pawing at his now bloodied visage, Drake moving out of the way just in time when he trips and lands on the ground with a great  _ thud _ .

He scoops Gosalyn up off of his back and sprints to join the rest of the group, where they seem to be holding the Beagle Boys back just fine. The sound of Launchpad crying out in pain makes Drake’s stomach drop, and his beak twists in a scowl when he finds the werewolf struggling to get off the floor, shoulder bloody from what looked like a pretty serious bite wound. 

Putting Gosalyn down, Drake sets off after his boyfriend, ducking and dodging the too slow hands of any Beagle Boys he passes until he’s in front of Launchpad, fending off any approaching werewolves.

“Come on, Big Guy! I need you to get up!” Drake shouts over his shoulder, swinging his pitchfork like a baseball bat to knock the end of the handle into a Beagle Boy’s head before whirling around to scrape the sharp end across another’s chest.

Launchpad grits his teeth against the burning pain in his shoulder, trying to get himself back up because he knew Drake couldn’t keep them back for long. He lifts his head sluggishly, eyes unfocused, until he sees the glint of something metallic coming from the back of the room, where Ma Beagle was at. He tries to remember where he’s seen that flash of steel before, when his sensitive ears pick up the  _ click  _ of a gun cocking.

“No, NO!”

The loud  _ BANG  _ of the gun going off makes everyone in the room freeze, time moving in slow motion for a moment, and Launchpad can do nothing but watch as Drake is shot, standing for a second after the bullet hits.

Then Drake is falling to the floor, clutching at his chest with eyes wide and scared, and Launchpad loses him for the second time that night.


	9. It Will Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title states, things come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOO BOY ALRIGHT HERE WE ARE!!!!!!! The final chapter, wow I can't believe I actually kept up with this tbh, but it was thanks to the motivation of my loved ones really helping me to believe this fic was worth it and that I should keep on going with it!!! For my very first multi-chapter fic, I'm pretty happy with the end result, but I know I have a long way to go as a writer, and I hope I can keep improving and writing things you all enjoy! That said, I hope you all actually enjoyed this lmao, and I'd love to hear any constructive criticism you might have for my future writing! 
> 
> Alright, alright, enough of all that, on to the thanks!
> 
> First of all, thank you to my wonderful partner just for being amazing and tolerating me whenever I would get into the writing mood and forget to talk to you, I love you! And thank you to my wonderful friends and family in the Discord Server for keeping me motivated, especially Mud (even if you had to bully me to finish chapters smh) who made amazing fanart for this mess of a fic that really pushed me to keep going with it! Thank you to my betas Night_Owl and Jazz for making sure it wasn't completely incomprehensible, and for also giving me great ideas and feedback! You guys are all so amazing and I love you all so much, you really made writing this so much fun!
> 
> NOW, I'm sure you're all ready for this fic to be over already! So let's get on with the show!
> 
> Comments and kudos would be MUCH appreciated, and thank you for sticking with me for this long! <3

_ Every werewolf family had a ‘Room’ like the one Launchpad would be locked in tomorrow.  _

_ Reinforced steel door, padded walls, usually padlocked and kept in the basement, this room was used for First Shifts. Launchpad had been given many lectures about the first shift, told about how you couldn’t control yourself during it, told about his cousin that had escaped and almost killed someone during hers. As he approached the age for first shift his parents had grown increasingly cautious, constantly asking him how he was feeling and keeping a close eye on the moon’s phases. _

_ He was seventeen now, a little early for the first shift, but there was a blood moon coming soon, and they had been well documented to cause early first shifts thanks to how powerful they were, so his parents were planning on locking him in the room tomorrow night. _

_ But of course, as with most things in Launchpad’s life, he crashed and burned that plan. _

_ He had been outside, on his way back to the house for the night after working on his plane restlessly all day, full of energy for some unknown reason. It started raining as he walked back home, the sun setting while the moon began its slow ascent into the sky, and Launchpad found himself drawn to a stop, turning and watching the moon with hazy eyes. _

_ Then he was overtaken by a rush of pain he wouldn’t forget for all his days, a choked howl forced from his throat as every bone in his body, every last muscle ached, and he could feel himself changing. The shift was so much more painful than he ever could have imagined, and his last fully cognizant thought before the transformation took over was that he had disappointed his parents once again. _

_ The shift was over as soon as it had begun, and he lay in the grass between his house and the airfield, delirious from the pain and wet with rain.  _

_ “Launchpad! Are you alright, doofus?” he hears somebody's voice get closer, rising to his feet shakily, and that same voice gasps out in surprise. _

_ "Oh no… MOM! DAD!”  _

_ His extra sensitive ears ring, and he claps his clawed hands over them with a growl. Whoever that was, they were too loud, and he wanted them to stop. Lightning lights up the night sky and the answering peal of thunder rumbles so loud he screams, feeling as though the thunder was pounding his skull, and he takes off blindly into the night. _

_ He bumps into something as he runs, both of them falling to the ground in a heap, and he can feel his claws sink into warm skin, a sharp cry coming from whatever it was he crashed into. _

_ "LOOPEY! LAUNCHPAD, NO!”  _

_ The smell of blood suddenly overwhelms his senses, and he looks down to see his claws are piercing into a thin arm, standing up and pulling them free to watch red drip from his fingers. He becomes aware of two eyes staring right at him, and they look so afraid he wonders what could have upset them so much. A part of him tells him he hates the way they’re looking at him, and his lip curls into a mean snarl, stepping towards the stranger and taking some satisfaction in the way they scramble away.  _

_ Then he’s being tackled to the ground, shoved in the mud, and his fight or flight response kicks in, and a meaner side of himself decides on fight. _

_ It took the combined strength of his mother and father to get him inside and into the ‘Room’, and he spent the rest of the night there howling and tearing at the walls, desperate to escape in his confusion. When he woke up in the morning, hungry, exhausted, and still aching in some places, he realizes what’s happened and curls into a ball and cries until his parents come to get him. He takes in the cuts and scrapes scattered about their arms and faces with shame, knowing he put them there, and when he sees his sister’s arm bandaged up he wants to run away, and so he does. _

\---

Launchpad remembers that moment he stood over his sister, the pain and rage and confusion clouding his head, the fear in her eyes. He remembers it so clearly it still gives him nightmares; the memory gave him a nightmare just the other night, the night Drake first hugged him. He remembers how it felt like there was nothing he could do to stop himself, how even his father struggled to hold him back. The memories are so vivid he could smell the rain dampened earth as if he were there, and even after almost fifteen years, the smell of Loopey’s blood will always haunt him.

He remembers all of these things now, the pain and the rage he felt then much like what he feels now, and something in him  _ snaps _ . All he knows is that Drake is in his arms, he’s not moving, and that Ma Beagle is the reason. The Beagle Boys around him all take a hesitant step back, unsure of what to do as Launchpad sets the duck down on the floor gently, touch lingering as he lets him go. 

His fur bristles, and he looks twice as big, sharp teeth bared as he stands to his full height, and the cowards in front of him tuck their tails between their legs.

“Leave.  _ Now. _ ”

Thankfully, the Beagle Boys aren’t as stupid as they seem, and they quickly collect their wounded brothers and rush to leave, even as Ma Beagle howls for them to come back, the scent of fear emanating from her in waves. Launchpad takes slow steps toward her, and she fumbles with the gun in her hands, but a purple aura surrounds the piece of metal and it is suddenly flung to the side. The matriarch of the Beagle pack looks well and truly terrified, stumbling away until her back hits the wall and she’s trapped, and he takes some satisfaction in it.

“I-I don’t know what came over me! Please, I’m begging you, I’m sorry!” she stammers, eyes wide and scared, but Launchpad ignores her and grabs her by the fur of her neck, pinning her against the wall. He stares at the scared woman for a long minute, and everyone in the room holds their breath, waiting to see just what he’ll do to her. The memory of his sister’s eyes makes him falter, however, and he feels sick to his stomach when he realizes just what he’s doing, dropping Ma Beagle back to the floor and shaking his head as if to clear it.

Before she can begin crawling away though he steps one big foot on her tail, effectively stopping her in her tracks, and she turns to look up at him with those scared eyes once again.

“If you  _ ever  _ come near my family again, I won’t be so nice next time.”

She nods rapidly in understanding, and he picks his foot up to let her go, but she’s stopped once again as purple magic surrounds her.

Black Arts glares at her with contempt clear in his eyes, then looks over to Launchpad with pity and shame, “She’s not getting away with this so easily, the police are waiting outside.” he says, and begins walking out of the room, floating his struggling mother beside him, and before he leaves he tosses a quick, “I’m sorry.” over his shoulder.

Scrooge takes a step toward him, reaching a hand out, but Launchpad turns away from him, an overwhelming tidal wave of sadness washing over him when he sees Gosalyn collapsed next to her father, her small form shaking with sobs. He shifts back into his normal form, approaching her carefully, knowing that this was all his fault and that she would probably want nothing more to do with him. 

Kneeling beside her, he places a hand on her back, and she leans over to cry into his lap, surprising him, but he pulls her closer nonetheless, wrapping around her protectively. Even if he couldn’t keep her dad safe, he would do his damndest to make sure nothing happened to her on his watch.

“Gosalyn, sweetheart, why are you crying?”

Two pairs of eyes open wide in shock, and Launchpad nearly breaks his neck snapping his head up to look at the (very much alive) duck laying in front of him

“DAD!”

“DRAKE!”

Launchpad immediately begins checking Drake over for wounds, hands shaking as he grabs at his jacket, which he has just realized has no obvious signs of a bullet hole, and there’s no blood leaking from what he thought would have been a horrible wound.

“What the…” he whispers in confusion, when Gosalyn goes to envelop her father in a tight hug and he cries out in pain, making her leap back with a gasp.

“Dad? Wh- are you- are you ok?” Gosalyn whimpers, wringing her hands while Launchpad pushes the jacket back, but nothing looks to be wrong despite the fact he was just shot.

“My chest…” Drake hisses, taking short, quick breaths, and Launchpad takes his hand in his own as his beak grimaces in pain.

“Probably a bruised rib or two, could’ve been much worse.” Scrooge’s sudden presence at his side nearly makes Launchpad jump, and he furrows his brow in confusion, wondering how in the world Drake had survived a bullet wound to the chest.

“I had your jacket made bulletproof ages ago, Launchpad, remember Gyro’s newfangled lightweight kevlar?” the Scotsman explains, and the dog just gives him a blank stare before muttering a soft, “Buh?”

Scrooge rolls his eyes, “Being my Chauffeur comes with its dangers, lad. ‘S’pose it finally came in handy, aye?”

Launchpad might be a little bit in shock, as he looks back down at Drake, Drake and his moving chest and his open eyes, his beating heart. He wasn’t dead, and he was going to make sure he never got close to death ever again.

“You’re alright…” he squeezes his hand tight, and Drake gives him a weak smile in turn.

“Alright… might not be the best word…” the duck coughs, and immediately winces in pain, tears building in his eyes.

“We should get him outside, there are police and paramedics waiting.” Donald says, and Launchpad snaps out of his reverent staring to nod, carefully scooping Drake up into his arms, taking slow steps so as not to jostle him. Gosalyn follows close behind as they make their way through the manor and back outside, and the red and blue lights of what seems to be a hundred police cars and ambulance nearly blind him.

“You know, this night did not go how I imagined getting to meet your family would go.” Drake rasps, which pulls a surprised chuckle from the werewolf, and he regrets it when Drake winces.

“Yeah, could’ve gone a  _ little  _ bit better.” Launchpad agrees, leaning down to peck him on the forehead, a quick apology. Drake looks up at him with fondness in his eyes, bringing one of his hands up to rest on Launchpad’s cheek.

“Didn’t have the chance to say it back earlier so, I love you, too.”

He falters in his steps, Drake hissing in pain, and before he can answer there are medics approaching, hands outstretched to take his boyfriend from him, and for a selfish moment he thinks about running away and hiding the both of them away forever, but thankfully the rational side of him overpowers that desire. Launchpad hands him over, placing him on a stretcher that he can’t remember being placed in front of him, and he follows them as they roll away until he’s about to be put into an ambulance, a medic stopping him with a raised hand before he can even try to get on.

“Your relation to the patient?”

“I- uh I’m his, um-”

“ _ I’m _ his daughter and I’m getting on that ambulance.” Gosalyn interrupts his stumbling speech, and the medic arches a brow in surprise before letting her pass.

“Sorry sir, we can only fit one person in the back, besides, it looks like you could use some help yourself.” they frown, looking at his shoulder, and he remembers the bite wound there nonchalantly, honestly having forgotten about it.

Then he’s being pulled away and sat down in the back of an ambulance, a paramedic tending to his wounds, and he lets time pass in a confusing blur of sounds and smells until Donald is standing in front of him, and the kids are also there, all giving him concerned looks. 

Dewey steps closer, grabbing one of his big hands, “Are you alright, Launchpad?” he asks quietly, and the werewolf’s hazy eyes clear a bit.

“Yeah… yeah, Lil’ Buddy.” he lies, then thinks better of it, “Well actually, no. But I’ll be fine eventually.” Launchpad admits, smiling tightly at the middle triplet, who then nestles in close for a hug, followed by the rest of the kids. 

The weight of the extremely stressful past couple of hours finally eases off of his shoulders, and as he starts crying he pats himself on the back for keeping it together for this long in front of everybody. Once he calms himself down, Donald offers to drive him to the hospital to go be with Drake, and on the ride there he asks to borrow his phone, deciding it was about time he gave his family a long overdue apology.

\---

Drake hates hospitals.

Hates the smell of them, the bright fluorescents, the cold beds, the  _ humiliating  _ hospital gowns. Everything about them rubbed his feathers the wrong way, and he thinks he’s been pouting the entire time he’s been here. As much as he’d argued with the paramedics and the doctor taking care of him that he was fine, a quick x-ray of his ribs showed hairline fractures in two, and he was told they were going to monitor him for the night before he could head back home.

Gosalyn had stayed with him the entire time, more quiet than he’d ever seen her, and she only started acting more like herself once the doctor told him he would be fine, and that he just needed to take it easy for the next couple of months. His daughter was now curled up in his side, probably exhausted from all the action of the day, and he strokes her hair as he hums a quiet lullaby. The pain medicine they’d given him made him a little drowsy, and he starts dozing off when he hears the door to his room opening.

He narrows his eyes instinctively, thinking it was the overbearing nurse coming to check up on him again, but his mood rapidly improves when he sees it’s not a Ms. Kayla coming to see him but rather a tired looking Mr. McRuff. That tail of his starts wagging as soon as their eyes meet, and he’s by his side in seconds, pulling a chair up to his bed and threading their fingers together.

“How’re you feeling?” the dog asks, pulling his hand closer to brush his lips against it.

“A lot better, but I wish I was home already.” he sighs, giggling when Launchpad presses a few more kisses to his hand, and he can’t be angry for too long.

“You need the rest though, Drake. You were  _ shot  _ for goodness sake,” Launchpad gets misty eyed, and Drake’s chest aches for an entirely different reason.

“Hey,  _ hey _ , I’m alright,” he soothes, slipping his hand out of his boyfriend’s hold to cup his cheek, thumbing away the few tears that do fall. “And it’s all thanks to you, really. If it weren’t for your jacket…” they both shiver at the thought, and Launchpad grabs onto the hand caressing his face to squeeze it tight.

“I thought… I thought you were…”

Drake stops him before he can start, closing his snout in a gentle grip, “But I’m not, I’m right here, flesh and blood.” Watching Launchpad fist his big hands into the flimsy, scratchy blankets of the bed, he tugs one up to rest it (carefully) over his chest. “See?”

Launchpad lets his hand feel Drake’s heartbeat for a moment until he slides his hand up the duck’s neck to cradle the back of his head, getting up out of his chair to kiss him. It’s a sweet, simple kiss, over much too soon, and Drake almost pulls the werewolf back in for another when they both hear a quiet, “Ahem.”

Gosalyn is giving the pair of them a tired glare, and Launchpad quickly sits back down, clearing his throat.

“Heya, Gosaroonie…” he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, and she shakes her head at the both of them before settling back down against her father’s side.

“You guys are gross.”

_ Three Months Later _

“LAUNCHPAD!”

“Yes, my love?”

“Don’t you ‘Yes, my love’ me! Help!”

The werewolf looks over to where Drake seems to be growing grey feathers, chasing after Dewey, who somehow got onto the back of a sheep and was now going for an impromptu ride. His help isn’t needed for long as Gosalyn uses her newly learned skills in lassoing (from Webby of course) to catch the sheep and let Dewey leap off of its back. Drake then begins a lecture on the importance of safety on the farm, and before he can get started on rule number two, the kids have lost interest, and so they make their way to the barn to pester Buttercup.

Shaking his head at their antics, Launchpad pauses in his hammering to step back and admire his progress on the gazebo Drake had told him he’d been wanting for years. He hadn’t been able to work on it in the past couple of days thanks to the recent snow, and he would probably have to wait until Spring to finish it, but seeing an actually recognizable shape of a building fills him with pride.

A warm arm wraps around his own, and he looks down at Drake, snickering at the scowl he gives him.

“Thanks for your help there ‘My love’,” Drake does a bad impression of his voice, making Launchpad wheeze, “I knew you had it all handled, babe.” he hums, stooping down to pick his boyfriend up with one strong arm, delighting in his ability to make Drake blush with that simple action. He smothers him in mushy kisses just because he can until the duck pushes his face away, tail wagging as he puts him back down. Drake gives him a half-hearted glare once he calms down, pinching his arm as payback, then he glances over at the almost gazebo with a soft smile.

“It’s coming along so well, Launchpad…” he sighs, coming closer to run a hand over a wooden post, “I still can’t believe you’re doing this for me, you know you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Launchpad’s tail wags hard, always loving it when Drake calls him that out loud, and he’s back in his arms once again, nuzzling his cold nose into his neck despite Drake’s pleas for mercy in between snorting laughter. They end up sitting on the cold concrete of the floor of the gazebo, Launchpad laying down with his head on Drake’s lap while he plays with his hair, just taking in the winter wonderland around them.

“I love you.” Launchpad mutters quietly, not really wanting to break the comfortable silence between them but he felt like he would burst if he didn’t say it right in that moment. Those small hands card through his hair slow and gentle, and his eyes close as Drake pecks his forehead.

“I love you, too, Big Guy.”

After a quick snowball fight initiated by a certain green hoodie wearing child, everyone heads into the house, which is nice and toasty thanks to the crackling fireplace. The smell of Launchpad’s amazing cooking drifts into the living room from the kitchen, and the dog goes to check on the brisket in the oven, determining its ready, but before everyone can dig in, he has the kids help him light the first candle on the menorah. 

Drake follows along with Launchpad’s prayer afterwards even with his horrible Hebrew accent, and the kids all do their best as well. The werewolf also leads them through a traditional song that has them dancing around the room until the front door opens with a loud bang.

“We have returned from our quest!” 

Storkules’ booming voice fills the house easily, and Drake is still getting used to his inability to keep his level below a shout, but he quickly gets over the ringing in his ears when he sees the beautiful pine tree getting carried in without a sweat. As Launchpad gets the triplets to set the table and start putting food on everyone’s plate, Drake has Gosalyn and Webby help him set up the Christmas tree, thanking Storkules and Donald for the amazing tree they picked out.

“It was no problem, even though I had to talk Storkules out of the twenty foot tall tree we saw out there.” Donald laughs, helping them string up lights and place tinsel about the tree. 

“I still believe it would have been most glorious, My Donald!” the demigod argues, and Donald rolls his eyes but smiles fondly at his fiance.

“Food’s ready!” Launchpad calls from the kitchen, just as they finish placing the star on the tree, and Drake tells everyone to come over and watch them plug the lights in. 

“Can I do it this year, Dad?” Gosalyn begs, since he did it last time, “Of course, sweetie, the honors all yours!” he says, her warm hug tight enough to crack his ribs for the second time in his life.

The twinkling of the lights makes everyone ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ and Drake feels the Holiday spirit grab him tight and fill him with joy. The Holiday season with Gosalyn was always a quiet affair, with them exchanging one or two presents and going out and cutting down a small tree, but the house was always full of light and warmth and love, and this year it seems like it's bursting with it.

Everyone squeezes into the too small dining room to eat, talking and laughing and stuffing themselves until they can hardly move, then they all settle in the living room to watch movies and fall into a food coma. His life had changed so quickly within the span of a couple of months, and it was all thanks to the werewolf currently close to snoozing at his side. A part of him can’t help but wish they met through different circumstances, however, remembering the nights he’s had to calm Launchpad from nightmares of the Beagle Pack’s attack on the mansion. Nightmares of his own also keep him up some nights whenever he thinks about the fact that Graves is still out there somewhere.

But Drake pushes those thoughts from his mind and nestles closer into Launchpad’s side instead. It was Holiday time, they could worry about all of those things another day.

Later into the night, Storkules and Donald will collect their children and head back home to Duckburg after many hugs and promises to see each other soon, then Drake and Launchpad will tuck Gosalyn in bed and read her a bedtime story until she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

Now their little house in the country is quiet, and they wash dishes side by side, humming songs to themselves and occasionally singing them aloud to make one another laugh, and it makes washing what seems like a million dishes go by so much faster. Once everything is dried off and put away, Drake leans against the kitchen counter, wiping his hands off and sighing in contentment. He squeaks when he is suddenly lifted by strong hands up onto the counter, about to protest until Launchpad’s mouth is on his and they’re sharing a long, slow kiss. 

He still feels like he can’t breathe even when they pull apart, a dazed, dopey smile twisting his beak.

“I’m so glad you’re a part of my family.” Launchpad whispers into his neck, nosing at the warm feathers there and tickling him. Drake’s heart beats a staccato rhythm in his chest, pushing Launchpad back to look him in the eyes.

“I was going to tell you the same thing.”

They share a few more kisses until Drake complains of being tired, and he begins tugging Launchpad to bed until he remembers he left his jacket outside while he was working on the gazebo.

“I don’t want it to get ruined, you go ahead and get ready for bed, I’ll be right there.” he assures him, kissing him on the temple and pushing him off to their bedroom before heading outside. The chill of winter bites into his skin, even with his warm fur, and he hurries up to find his jacket before he freezes to death. When he can’t spot it, even after looking all around the gazebo and his little work area, he stands with his arms hugged tight around his body, frowning and shivering.

“Looking for this?”

The familiar accent makes Launchpad’s heart stop in his chest, and he turns slowly towards the voice, rage burning in his veins when he sees Falcon Graves, complete with a new scar, right where he remembered giving it to him. He’s standing a few feet behind him, holding his jacket in his hand before throwing it to the ground carelessly.

“Now before we start saying and doing hurtful things. I’d just like to talk for a moment.” he says, holding his hands up in a placating gesture when Launchpad takes a step toward him. Remembering Gosalyn and Drake inside, he decides to avoid confrontation, but he keeps his guard up regardless.

“See, my employer has no real desire to hurt your family-” the falcon continues, and Launchpad growls immediately, cutting him off, “Nobody is hurting my family… not on my watch…”

Graves just rolls his eyes, “Yes, quite, now as I was saying,” he holds his hand out and opens it to reveal a familiar looking box, and Launchpad’s eyes widen, realizing he must have gotten it from his jacket.

“Marriage… how novel…” he sighs, opening the box and narrowing his eyes at the simple engagement ring there, the glint of the diamond shining despite the near black of the night.

“Give that back…” Launchpad spits, fur standing up and ears pinning back, and he gets the satisfaction of watching Graves’ adam apple bob when he swallows, nervous.

“But of course, Mr. McRuff.” Falcon says, disdain dripping from his voice as he throws the box with ring inside to join his jacket on the floor, and Launchpad quickly scoops them both up, putting the box away.

“Wait, how do you know my-”

“My employer is simply interested in you, you see. He’s a collector of sorts, and he’d like to add you to his collection.”

“What-”

“Would you shut up already?” Falcon finally snaps, showing the barest hint of emotion, and Launchpad’s jaw snaps shut even as he glares daggers at the other man.

“What I’m saying is, nothing has to happen to your family if you come to this address within the next year.” Graves tosses a business card his way, and he fumbles before catching it. He reads the address with a furrowed brow, endlessly confused by all of this.

“Why would you tell me all this? What if I just go talk to the police?” he asks, and Graves smiles wickedly.

“You won’t.” is all he says before vanishing, right before his eyes, as though he’d turned into thin air, and then he reappears in front of him, face to face, eye to eye, except his eyes are glowing with a sinister red light.

_ “You will be unable to tell anyone of this, it will be your secret to keep.”  _ his voice seems to echo in his mind, and it’s like he can  _ feel  _ some part of himself getting rewired to follow this direct order, and he knows in an instant that there’s nothing he could do to try and disobey it. Those red eyes then turn back to normal, and Launchpad sinks to his knees on the floor, clutching his head.

“Well, I enjoyed our ‘talk’. Remember, one year, that’s all. Enjoy it while you can.” Falcon chuckles at the end, then horrific looking bats wings erupt from his back, and Launchpad remembers his parents talking to him about vampires. It only takes a few great flaps of his wings before he’s gone once again, disappearing into the black night, and as Launchpad stares up at the slight sliver of the moon mocking him from her place in the sky, all his hopes of things finally going back to normal quickly vanish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONE! OVER! FINISHED! THE END! FIN!
> 
> FINALLY I can close the book on this fic and look forward to future plans, which, as you could probably tell with the ending there, include a sequel to this fic! I will be completely honest and say that I don't have a super concrete idea of what I want that to look like, or when it would even be a thing, or IF it's something y'all would even want LOL sooo don't expect it too soon. I've got lots of other things I wanna write, however, so keep an eye out for those fics!
> 
> Again, I wanna thank you guys for sticking with this fic for so long, and I hope you all enjoyed it, or got some enjoyment from it hehe


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